Affliction of Love
by Rosey Malone
Summary: If Aramis would have been able to describe Athos in one word that night it would be, somber. My first Musketeers fanfic, so please be nice and review! :)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is my first Musketeers story, YAY! So I've been a die-hard Musketeers fanfic for the last three years and I finally found the courage to post a story! Really have always wanted to explore my favorite threesome (sorry no d'Artagnan in this one) so here it is! Please leave a nice review. I'm always open to constructive criticism, but we all want support, right?**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything with the BBC Musketeers. Just like playing in this world! :)**

 **I'll try to post as often as I can. I'm homeschooled, so sometimes homework gets in the way. But, I won't leave the story for long, promise!**  
 **Now enough of my blab and on to the story!**

If Aramis would have been able to describe Athos in one word that night it would be, somber.

Both he and Porthos had stayed behind in the tavern that night, entertaining themselves with cards and a few drinks. They both felt the need to keep an eye on their brother, who had taken it upon himself to sit in the farthest corner of the room with a mug of wine in his hands.

"I don't like it," Aramis sighed glancing at the swordsmen for the hundredth time, "He shouldn't be drinking now."

Porthos nodded somberly and turned to steal a glance where Aramis had been looking.

"I know," He shook his head, "But, you know how he gets. Besides, it's better that he's here where we can watch him, than somewhere alone."

Aramis knew his brother was right, but it didn't make it any easier to bear. For the last week, Athos' depressed state had only grown worse. Both men knew it was due to the fact that his demon of a wife had insisted on flaunting herself in the palace, right before his eyes.

He had hoped that Athos would try his best to ignore Milady, but it was easier said than done. Aramis could only imagine what Athos must be feeling now. To be witnessing the woman he loved shaming herself with the man they had sworn to protect. It just seemed to drive Athos on edge. So every night since her appearance, he had come to their local tavern to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Aramis ran a hand through his hair in dismay and leaned forward in his chair.

"You and I both know what the drinking will do to him."

"Yeah, but if it brings him some comfort, I'm willing to let him have it," Porthos whispered almost as if he was afraid of being overheard.

The look on the Spaniard's face read the thoughts loud and clear. Aramis was having a difficult time letting Athos wallow in his self-pity. Porthos, having grown up in the Court of Miracles, witnessed at a young age many drunkards who had found their healing in a drink. He knew that some demons were best kept silenced rather than prodded out.

Aramis, on the other hand, knew that Athos' drinking would solve nothing except open the wound wider. He also did not like the fact that their brother had been refusing their attempts at helping him. Athos had made it quite clear to them both that he did not wish for their company.

But, Aramis saw the lies behind it all.

"Porthos," He said, "I know that he feels the need to drink because of her memory, but it won't help him heal. What he needs right now, more than anything else are his brothers."

Porthos felt his heart warm a bit at the insight and devotion that showed through Aramis' eyes.

"I know that brother," He replied, "But, some things we just can't heal. Athos needs to learn to forget her, not ignore her."

"I agree. And the best way to that is to hold his hand as he tries," Aramis smirked lightly, "You both would do the same thing for me."

Porthos had to admit that the Spaniard had won with that argument.

"Alright ya sap," He grinned, "Let's see what we can do."

A bright smile that could chase away any shadows was his reward.

Aramis promptly arose from his seat and made his way silently over to the brooding man in the corner. Porthos followed right behind him, eager to help in any way that he could.

He wasn't sure how Aramis planned to get through to an intoxicated Athos at this point. While he agreed with everything his brother had said, he also knew that convincing Athos to listen would be another battle. It was not that Porthos didn't want to help, but he was unsure how he could. Especially when Athos was so determined to push them away.

Although something deep in Porthos' heart had him believing that this was not the man's intention. Because of his anger over the recent events and his somber mood in general, it seemed as if Athos truly wished to be left alone.

Yet this could not be true. Because every night when Aramis had offered that they accompany him to the tavern, Athos had accepted with a quiet nod. He did not actively ask for their company, but he did not deny it either.

Which meant in Porthos' mind, that there was hope.

And if anyone could get through to Athos' wounded heart, it would be Aramis. Kind, sweet, gentle Aramis, who only ever wished to see his brothers happy. The marksman seemed to have a glow around him that shouted comfort. Porthos just prayed that it would be enough to push past Athos' demons.

Aramis had by now sat himself down right next to Athos, who had his head bowed in exhaustion and seemed to be nodding off in his seat.

"Athos?" Aramis whispered gently as if he was talking to a small child, "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Came the gruff response. Porthos couldn't help but wince a bit. Athos sounded as exhausted as he looked.

"It's getting late and we'll need to be up early for morning muster," The other man kept his tone light, "What do you say Porthos and I get you home?"

"I'm fine," Athos lifted his head slightly to gaze ahead, "You two go on."

Before Aramis could speak, Porthos cut in.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, brother," The bigger man tried to keep his tone warm, but the concern was coloring it, "You've had quite a load to drink there. It might be safer if we all leave together."

"If you are implying that I cannot seem to hold my own liquor, don't," Athos replied coldly but oddly blank, "I'll be fit for duty in the morning. You need not trouble yourselves on my account."

Porthos took a deep breath trying to ignore the stiff words. He had to mentally remind himself that one, Athos was slightly intoxicated. Two, he was in a dark place now and couldn't seem to muster any feelings for anyone.

Aramis seemed to be uncomfortable as well with Athos' tone. He fixed his warm and caring gaze at the man, but still, Athos refused to meet his eyes.

"Of course you'll be fine tomorrow, no one is saying that you won't be," He spoke again, "But Porthos and I are worried about you. You've been keeping to yourself lately, sitting here alone and drinking."

"And I already stated that you have no reason to worry," Athos then decided to steal a glance at the marksman, "I'm fine."

Aramis sighed. He felt like he was getting nowhere with his brother. He knew getting through to Athos was going to be difficult, but he wanted to save the deeper conversations for when they were in private.

"No you're not, Athos," Aramis leaned closer, "We know what's bothering you and you need to be back at the Garrison, not sitting here drinking away your troubles."

"I think you both should leave now." Athos shifted away from Aramis and glanced at Porthos, "I don't need a keeper."

"We're not trying to be your keeper, Athos." Porthos sighed wishing the stubborn man would listen to reason.

"Then if you don't mind," Athos lifted his mug, "I'm going to drink here _alone_." The last word was harsher.

Both Aramis and Porthos looked at each, silently communicating what needed to be done. Porthos knew he could easily pick Athos up and drag him out of the tavern, kicking and thrashing all the way back. However, there was the matter of Athos's honor to maintain and they also didn't want things to have to get violent.

Aramis looked at Porthos, silently pleading to try once more. He was not going to leave Athos here all night alone. It was simply out of the question. Porthos nodded back indicating that he agreed.

They would stay here if it took all night or longer.

"Athos," Aramis sighed rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Please come home with us? We can't leave you here like this."

"Why not?" Came the sudden hard reply, "I want you to. I don't want you here. You've followed me here every night. I don't want you, get out!"

Porthos felt his heart tighten not only at Athos' words but also at the hurt that was evident in Aramis' eyes. He seemed to have unshed tears in them but quickly blinked them away.

"I know you're hurting, but now isn't a good time to-"

"What? Tell you what I truly feel?" Athos turned back to look at Aramis, "I don't expect you to understand. You, who shamelessly parades yourself for the affection of every female in Paris. Are you going to honestly tell me that you know a damn thing about real love? You are nothing but an indecorous womanizer!"

Aramis took in a sharp intake of air, trying to ignore the hurtful words that spilled out like venom. Athos also seemed to realize how vindictive the words were and shut his eyes in shame. He obviously had regretted what was said, but Porthos noticed that Aramis' eyes held no anger or malice, only sympathy. Yet it seemed as if Athos did not want sympathy either.

"Listen Athos..." Aramis reached out to lay a comforting hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder, but Athos only flinched away as if he had been burned. Aramis only squeezed the tense shoulder harder, trying to provide what little comfort he could.

"I know you still care for her, but she is not going to give you an ounce of anything good in life." The hushed voice was replaced with a slight firmness. Aramis still sounded gentle, but his tone was one that was obviously trying to get through to the man.

"Leave me," Athos ordered.

"No," Aramis shook his head, "I'm not going to leave you along with thoughts of her all night. What kind of brother would I be if I did that?"

"You either face her with us or ignore her with us," Porthos spoke up, "But either way, you will have us by your side."

"I don't want you by my side," Athos growled, "I don't want you here at all! Just go!"

"You can't ignore this," Aramis whispered intently, "You can't ignore her."

The reaction was sudden and quick, but one Porthos was sure he would never forget.

Athos shoved Aramis' hand off him and turned around quickly, striking Aramis in the face so hard that the marksman fell the floor with a loud thud. Porthos hadn't been able to think fast enough to catch him and now he laid back wiping the blood from his now split lip.

"I don't want you here!" Athos shouted and stood up ready to do some more possible damage to the undefended man.

He leaned forward and kicked Aramis soundly in ribs, making the man curl into a ball to defend himself. Porthos bolted like lightning, terrified that Athos would really hurt him. He grabbed Athos in a bear hug from behind and pulled him back from the Spaniard.

"Athos stop!" Porthos yelled hanging onto the intoxicated man with all his might. Porthos had always known that he was the biggest among the three of them, but he never thought that he would have to use his size against them. The thought only made his throat tighten.

"Everything you did was a lie!" Athos kicked out in the air and thrashed against Porthos' hold, but he was not able to escape the larger man's hold, "You're a monster! You're evil! You'll never change, never!"

Aramis stared up at his brother with a concerned frown marring his features. He did not know what had possessed Athos so suddenly, but he was intent on making him stop.

"Calm down, Athos!" Porthos shouted again holding Athos' arms as the soldier attempted to throw Porthos back against the wall.

"Get off me!" Athos shouted back, "I hope you die! Why can't you die?" He was staring at Aramis, but the marksman knew he did not know where he was, "Why can't you just die?"

Aramis didn't know what to do. Athos was growing more crazed. Afraid that someone would call the Red Guards and they would all be locked up, Aramis stepped forward and did the only thing he could think of.

"ATHOS!" He yelled as loud as he could, slapping the man hard across the face, "Stop, it's us!"


	2. Chapter 2

**On to Chapter 2! Hope you all enjoy this next piece. Please review and let me know your thoughts. I love hearing from everyone. And thank you to all those that reviewed Chapter 2. You guys made my day!  
I put up a disclaimer in Chapter 1 and had some notes there too. Unfortunately, my Doc Manager is taken a while to show the new edits, but please be patient. I'll get it going soon. I'm still not used to some of the technical stuff when publhsing a story so I'm sort of feeling my way around it. I'll add the disclaimer again here just in case it didn't work in chapter 1.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Musketeers, I just enjoy writing about them.**

 **Anyway, now we can get on with the story! Enjoy!**

Athos ceased his thrashing and stared at Aramis with a wild expression on his face. His mind has felt like it had just stopped spinning and he couldn't determine why his cheek stung. He felt Porthos' strong arms holding tightly, lest he lose his composure again.

Aramis felt tears burn in the back of his eyes as he noticed the red welt that was painted over the swordsman's cheek, from the stinging blow he had delivered.

The last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt his brother, but Athos had been growing insane. Aramis had feared that Porthos would have had to hurt him to calm him down or that all three of them would end up in jail that night for the disturbance.

"Athos?" Porthos whispered out of breath, "You with us, brother?"

Athos just stared at Aramis. He saw his brother's soft, kind, brown eyes, full of warmth and worry. What had he done? Had he been responsible for the blood that now flowed freely from Aramis' lips?

Athos didn't know what had happened to him. For the last few seconds, he had felt a strong hate for Aramis. The very sight of him had made his blood boil. And for what? All his brothers wanted to do was to help him? Yet the hate in his heart that he felt for Milady had sent him into a blind rage.

Porthos still held him tightly. It was no longer as a caution, but rather as a comfort. He felt guilt roll through him like a wave. He did not deserve their concern. He was the evil one. He had let her become the foul thing that she was. He had failed to save his brother and had buried him in guilt. Now he had once again hurt another brother. Two whom he had hoped would never leave him.

If they left he would be lost. He did not know what to do without their love and support. Fear suddenly swallowed him and made him forget his guilt. Right now, he just wanted to know that he wasn't alone. Had he lost them too? Was he to be forced to hold this curse of shame and isolation for the rest of his life?

" _Dear God_ ," He thought silently, " _What have I become_?"

And the damn that he had spent weeks carefully constructing since the return of his wife, came crashing down.

"I'm sorry," He sobbed out breathing heavily, "I'm sorry," He tried to turn to look at Porthos, "Oh God, I'm so sorry." He crumpled to the ground, but Porthos didn't let him hit the floor. He supported him by holding onto his arms and Aramis knelt down to the floor with him holding him to his chest.

"I didn't mean it," Athos cried as he cupped his brother's bearded cheek, hating himself for the blood he had drawn, "Forgive me, I didn't mean any of it. I'm so sorry."

"Shhh," Aramis held him tightly, rocking him like a small infant, "I know you didn't. We're here now. It's alright. It's alright."

Athos leaned boneless against Aramis and let himself be comforted by the only two men who could do that for him. The only men whom he trusted to see this side of him and not run the other way. They would make sure no harm would come to him and for that, he loved them dearly.

"Ath," Porthos whispered running a hand through his hair, "We've gotchya. Just let us take care of you, yeah?"

Athos just nodded too spent to say another word.

"Hey!" Another voice was heard from behind them, "We don't want you, Musketeers, here causing trouble. You can't keep yourselves under control, so get out of here. I'll not be having you causing disturbances in my establishment."

Athos supposed that the voice belonged to the tavern keeper, who sounded irritated and cross. Though Athos was sure that he had good reason to be. After all, the scene that he must've made…

Aramis pulled his head to his chest kissing his hair softly. He must've known Athos thoughts and was now working to calm him and keep him from any prying eyes or dirty looks.

Athos would be forever grateful for his thoughtful thinking.

Porthos, on the other hand, got up and walked right up to the tavern keeper's face. His size was obviously quite threatening because the man backed up a bit from intimidation.

"Our brother has been harassed by some other events tonight. We've all just returned from a difficult mission for our King," Porthos kept his tone threatening and eyes dark, "You'll treat the Lieutenant with the respect he deserves, or we'll have ta head out back, so you can learn some proper manners, yeah?"

The tavern keeper nodded somberly and went back to wiping down the tables silently.

Athos sighed not knowing how to put his gratitude into words. How Porthos and Aramis were still able to treat him with dignity after what they had just witnessed him do, was a mystery to him. He was just thankful he had a family who did.

"Porthos," Aramis called gently still holding onto Athos tightly, "Let's get out of here, Get him home where we can all rest."

"I'm sorry..." Athos was about to go on but Porthos laid a hand on his shoulder gently quieting him.

"Don't," He replied warmly, "Don't ever say sorry."

"Not for being you," Aramis added by his ear, "There's no one else we'd rather be with."

"Come on," Porthos' voice was quiet and full of compassion, "Let's get the hell outta' here."

Together they both worked to help Athos up. Porthos wrapped his arm around him keeping him away from the glances that turned their way. Aramis moved swiftly to pay the tavern keeper for their drinks and collect their coats and hats.

"Keep this on," He ordered with a friendly gently smile as he put Athos hat on the swordsman's head, "It's chilly outside."

"Yes, mom." Athos rolled his eyes in amusement.

Aramis smirked, happy to see that they were still able to banter so soon after the disturbing event. He tsked gently keeping the smirk on his face, "And that is the thanks I get."

"You take it or leave it." Porthos winked jokingly.

Aramis laughed but stopped when he noticed Athos was staring at the ground.

"Athos?"

Athos kept his gaze on the floor, which worried Aramis.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "I deserve her torment."

Porthos instinctively tightening his hold on the man while he stole a glance at Aramis, who unconsciously wiped his hand over his lip. They were both thinking the same thing.

They were going to have to discuss this back at home.

"Come on." Porthos nudged and pulled Athos outside with Aramis walking along the other side.

They both kept their arms wrapped protectively around Athos, making sure that the man knew they were both there beside him.

The chilly air seemed to have grown stronger because Athos shivered intensely as it blew.

Aramis reacted instantaneously, pulling his own coat off and slipping around Athos.

"Don't worry," He smiled, "We'll be home soon."

Athos usually felt a sense of warmth fill his chest at the sight of that friendly smile, but now it filled him with remorse.

Why was Aramis looking at him with such compassion? Like he deserved kindness when he obviously did not.

Athos swallowed thickly as he remembered the cruel words he had said to the man only moments ago. How he had struck him as he was sitting there unsuspecting. He had not only acted with dishonor, but he had treated the brother whom he loved dearly with contempt.

"Athos?"

Guilt rolled through him a second time as he felt Porthos' firm hand on his shoulder. The big man should punch him square in the face and leave him in the cold.

"Look at me," Aramis' voice was heard, "We've got you."

" _But, you shouldn't_." The voice in Athos' head reminded.

Athos swallowed again as nausea hit his stomach like a ton of bricks. He swayed dangerously and if not for Porthos' firm grip, he would be lying on the ground in a heap.

"Too much wine," Porthos spoke looking at Aramis.

"Told you this drinking wouldn't help," Aramis stated but there was no malice in his voice, only consideration, "Come on let's get him over here."

Athos silently thank God a third time that night, for his brother's quick thinking.

Porthos let go of his arm and waited as Aramis hauled Athos with him to the side of the alley. There Athos spent the next few minutes, emptying his stomach of the alcohol he had drunk.

He felt miserable and embarrassed, but Aramis never left his side. He rubbed his back soothingly, waiting until the heaving was done. If he noticed the tears falling silently down Athos' face, he said nothing. He did, however, wipe them away gently.

"Alright?" Porthos asked watching in sympathy waiting to see if the marksman would need help.

"I think we're done, yes?" Aramis looked at Athos who nodded slowly.

Porthos was there in an instant, grabbing Athos by the arm and letting the sick man lean against him.

"Home now?" He asked in a cheerful voice.

Aramis nodded with a small smile on his face.

"Athos," He kept his voice light knowing that man's head was probably killing him, "Believe it or not, you'll feel much better now that _that's_ done."

Athos rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, "How fortunate for me." He replied dryly.

"And me." Aramis laughed ruffling his hair gently.

The three made their way back to the Garrison and headed into Porthos' room since he had the bigger bed. Athos had stumbled several times on their return home, so Porthos had ended up hauling the man over his shoulder and carefully as he could.

Upon entering the dark room, Aramis worked quickly to light some candles so Porthos could see. After the room was bathed in a dim glow, Porthos stalked over to the bed with his arms full of a sleeping Athos and unceremoniously plunked him down on the bed. Athos did not stir, however, remaining in a deep sleep.

"By all means, Porthos, bang his head some more," Aramis smirked, "It's not like the hangover tomorrow will do any damage."

"Nah, he's knocked out," Porthos looked amused as he slipped off the man's boots, "Hardly notice a thing tomorrow."

Aramis huffed out a breath of amusement. He watched fondly as Porthos worked quietly and gently as possible until Athos was moved comfortably under the blankets. Porthos seemed to be tucking him in like a child and Aramis watched with a mix of fascination and amusement.

He was always surprised by the gentleness in Porthos' demeanor. The man could go from boiling anger to warm affection in the blink of an eye. Aramis had always admired that of Porthos. The fierce protection that he used with the family. He felt blessed to be able to be a witness and recipient of that love.

Porthos, who must've felt Aramis' gaze on him, turned to smile back.

"What are you overthinking now?" He whispered as a small smile tugged his lips.

Aramis felt his smile drop as he remembered the earlier events. They had a problem on thier hands and how they would deal with it was still a mystery to him.

A strong hand was laid on his tense shoulder and Aramis looked to see Porthos next to him, with concern marring his features.

"Aramis?"

"Nothing," Aramis shook his head with a sad smile, "It's not important."

Porthos raised an eyebrow as if he was about to argue, but seemed to change him and nodded silently. He knew better than pester Aramis about something. The man would come to them when he was ready and that took time.

He took a hold of Aramis' chin to check his face now that they had better light.

"Does it hurt much?" He asked inspecting the lip which had now stopped bleeding.

"No," Aramis smirked, "Didn't even hurt at all. You know I've had much worse than this."

Porthos nodded, "What do you say we get some sleep?"

"Good idea." Aramis smiled and turned make himself comfortable in the chair.

Porthos grabbed the other spare chair by the fireplace which was still burning brightly. He sat down and felt himself relax for the first time all day.

It was only seconds before sleep claimed him.


	3. Chapter 3

The first sound Athos become aware of upon awakening was a deep snoring of Porthos no doubt.. If he hadn't felt like his head had been bashed in, he would've sat up to say something about the offending noise.

Keeping his eyes closed, he gave himself a minute to take in the sounds around him.

Birds were chirping loudly outside which indicated to him that it was morning. He could hear the sounds of the Garrison arising. Horses neighing loudly, swords being sharpened, the blacksmith's hammer pounded upon steel, the smell of Serge's breakfast beckoning others awake. The sounds of the Parisian morning had usually brought peace to Athos' mind. It was a pleasant reminder of a feeling. A feeling of home. Here among the weapons, soldiers, and bustle of orders was his home. He had not felt like he belonged anywhere since the death of...

" _No. Don't go there. Not now_."

Knowing his head would be in a considerable amount of pain, Athos opened his eyes slowly. He winced at the bright morning light that painted the whole room with its golden glow. His eyes throbbed and he felt a sharp pain go through his head. Athos groaned turning on his side and pushing his face further into the pillow. Perhaps if he stayed here long enough, things would be more bearable in a few hours.

How much wine had he had last night?

And that thought led to another. More of a distant memory than a thought.

 _Gentle voices, warm hands, anger, shouting, blood, Porthos' strong arms, Aramis' warm eyes_...

It all hit him like a sudden wave and Athos felt himself drowning under its pressure.

He remembered striking Aramis in a fit of rage last night and Porthos holding him back like he was some deranged animal. Some lunatic who needed to be prevented from doing more damage. And the thing that hurt the worse was, that's exactly how Athos felt. He felt like a monster. A cruel monster who had lost all sense of love and care. He hardly recognized himself most days when he looked in the mirror.

He wanted to stop thinking of her. He yearned for freedom of her memory so bad that he had taken back to drinking heavily again. Something he had promised both Aramis and Porthos he would cease now that he was free from her torment.

But that wasn't true. He was never free from her. Even when she was gone, she continued to plague his dreams. His mind would conger up cruel visions of her, just to torment him. He had felt like things were getting better. Aramis and Porthos had noticed a change in him since she had been gone. But now, everything he had worked so hard to achieve came crumbling down.

Not only was she back in Paris, but she had gone to the one man whom she could hide behind, the king. The one man Athos had sworn to protect was bedding his wife. Or rather she had given herself to him. Either way, it still made Athos feel physically sick. Because he knew why she was doing it, For power, greed, or to just torture him? Maybe a mix of all three.

His deep thoughts were disturbed by the sound of heavy breathing. Athos blinked open his eyes to see Aramis move his head silently in his sleep.

Athos looked down at the warmth he felt in his hand and saw that Aramis had been holding his hand tightly all night.

He lifted his gaze once more to study the marksman. His head was tilted back in the chair that he was seated in. Thick chocolate brown curls were everywhere and Athos couldn't help but find this image to be a bit amusing.

Both he and Porthos had always teased Aramis about his flowing locks, but to be honest he had always found them endearing. It was no wonder all the women of Paris seemed to become weak in the knees upon gazing at him.

" _I don't expect you to understand. You who shamelessly parades yourself for the affection of every female in Paris. Are you going to honestly tell me that you know a damn thing about real love? You are nothing but an indecorous womanizer_!"

Athos winced as he remembered his words from last night. They had been uncalled for and they were also untrue. Athos knew that Aramis had had a history with the women he met, but he also knew that the Spaniard respected his company and made sure to never take advantage. He had his heart broken many times from honestly loving a woman who did not return his feelings.

Aramis was not a womanizer, he just simply loved. And when he did he often gave everything he had to another. This had caused him much heartache, but still, he gave freely. Athos knew that it was not just to women, that Aramis showed this kindness. He gave the gift of his friendship to everyone he came across. Athos felt truly lucky to be able to call someone like Aramis, his brother.

"How's the headache?" A voice was heard.

Athos sat up a bit to see Aramis looking at him with a gentle smile on his lips.

"Tolerable," Athos replied.

Aramis raised an eyebrow at him, silently ordering him to speak the truth.

Athos gave in, "It's a bit painful, but it doesn't hurt so bad."

"Good," Aramis rubbed his face tiredly, "I was worried you'd be in pain this morning."

Athos watched him intently, wondering why someone this kind would ever care about him.

"I know you're probably in no mood to think about it," Aramis kept his voice in a hushed whisper, "But, there is breakfast to consider."

Athos hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath until he stopped and breathed again. For a moment, he thought Aramis would bring up last night. He should've known that Aramis would not be so shallow.

"Bring up whatever Serge made." He cleared his throat, annoyed by how dry it was.

A playful smile lit up Aramis' face and Athos couldn't help but feel apprehensive. After all, the man had a history of recklessness that was longer than France's history of wars.

"What?" He tried to sound interested and ignore his pounding head.

"You could tell me what you want to eat," The marksman stood and went over to the window.

"Not a chance. I'm not hungry-" Athos was about to argue but Aramis went on cheerily as if he hadn't spoken.

"Or you'll have to allow me to chose breakfast for you," Aramis smirked, "And that means I might bring back coffee, something sweet, or greasy. Oh," He clapped his hands, "How about Serge's delicious oatmeal?"

"Aramis," Athos groaned laying back down. They all knew Serge's oatmeal tasted like cement.

"What's the matter?" Aramis said with fake concern as he walked over to the bed, "You don't like oatmeal? Alright, how about bacon? All that fat, greasy pork is sure to have you feeling better in no time. Look," He walked over to the window an promptly threw it open taking in a strong breath of air, "Ahhh, I can smell it now!" He grinned.

Athos was sure his glare alone had made Aramis shut his smart mouth. Even if it hadn't, Aramis had raised his hands in surrender and was giggling helplessly.

"Alright," He ran a hand through his hair as he chuckled, "Is plain bread good enough?"

"Bless you." Athos sighed.

"Bacon sounds good to me." Porthos' voice was suddenly heard.

Athos opened his eyes and turned his head to glare over at the larger man in the chair next to his bed.

"If you're going to eat that in my presence than you'll be eating outside."

"Now that's not nice," Porthos frowned, "I've been starving for hours just looking after you."

"Yeah," Aramis nodded, "The least you can allow us is some proper nourishment."

Athos rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and winced when it made his head throb. He covered his hand over his face, wishing the drum in his head would just stop. A warm hand covered his wrist and gently pulled it away from his face. Athos blinked and saw Porthos sitting next to him with a patient smile on his face.

"You ok?" He asked, voice deep from sleep.

"It's just a hangover, Porthos." Athos looked at him with a frown.

"That's not what he meant and you know it." Aramis cut in sternly, hands resting on his hips. He didn't look angry, only frustrated with concern.

Athos sighed wishing for the second time that he could hide away from the world under the covers. He did not feel like going through this talk with either of them right now. How was he supposed to explain what had happened last night? How could he look them in the eye and admit that he was still haunted by her demons?

That he still...loved her?

"Athos?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Athos knew he sounded cold to them once again, but he couldn't help it. He didn't feel like fake smiling, but he also didn't want to talk about what was troubling him.

"Athos?"

Athos forced his eyes open not even remembering when he had closed them. He saw Aramis staring at him with a mix of understanding and concern clouding his brown eyes.

"It's alright. You don't have to talk about anything now, Just know that Porthos and I are here for you. We're not going anywhere, I promise."

The Spaniard's words were like a balm to his soul. He had been afraid of disappointing them again. He was afraid that if he could not come up with an explanation, they would become frustrated and leave. After all, they had a perfectly good reason.

"Don't try to cover up in front of us," Porthos leaned over and squeezed his hand reassuringly, "It's just us. We know you, you know us. You're safe with us. Just take as long as you need, brother."

"If you don't know, it's alright," Aramis chimed in, "We'll figure this out together. But, you are never alone. Never."

Athos swallowed back the tears that burned in the back of his eyes. How had they known what he was thinking? How had they known the exact thing he needed to hear?

"I just..." Athos lowered his head, keeping his voice soft, "need time."

Aramis leaned down by his bed and lifted his chin so that their eyes met.

"Take all the time you need, mi hermano," He smiled, "We'll be right here."

Porthos nodded as if he agreed wholeheartedly with Aramis' statement.

"Now," Aramis straightened, "You need to eat something. Whatever you eat is your choice, but you will eat something understand?"

"Yes," Athos nodded.

Aramis had a habit of using his medic tone when either he or Porthos were wounded or hurt. He expected them to follow his orders, just as any other patient would. Most of the time, it worked out fine, except for _certain_ times.

Porthos laughed deeply, "I'll see what Serge has."

"No, I'll go," Aramis pushed gently against Porthos' shoulder implying the man to stay seated on the bed, "Stay with our grumpy Musketeer, here. I'll see what I can rustle up."

"I'm not grumpy." Athos deadpanned.

"Yeah right," Aramis spun on his heel to look at his brother, "And Porthos is an excellent judge of character."

"Hey!" Porthos frowned, "That's not fair."

Aramis laughed as he opened the door.

"I just call them like I see them, Porthos." He quickly ran out before the bigger man decided to throw his boot at him.

Quickly heading down the stairs, Aramis spotted Serge wiping up some of the tables.

"Morning Serge." He greeted.

"Aramis," The older man smiled, "Where're your two shadows?"

"Around and about waiting to attack me at any given moment," Aramis winked good-naturedly, "Can I get something light for breakfast?"

Serge laughed seeing right through Aramis' act.

"Out celebrating last night, hey? Alright, I'll see what I can do," He limped back into the kitchen.

"Thank you." Aramis smiled waiting until the cook was out of sight before he closed his eyes.

He took deep breaths waiting for the pain to pass to a bearable level. He knew it would, but it was difficult waiting until then. Hiding from Porthos and Athos had been easy, but now that he was alone to really think about it, he realized that the pain was in no way tolerable.

He would just have to hide it until he found some alone time to rest.

"You alright, Aramis?" Serge asked emerging from the kitchen with a tray full of food,

Aramis released a deep breath, "I'm fine, Serge. It's just the uh... _celebrating_ from last night is catching up with me." He tried to keep his face neutral and his eyes light, hiding any signs of pain.

"Maybe you should ask the Captain for the day off," The old man replied staring at Aramis intently, "You look terrible."

"No, don't be ridiculous, I'm fine," Aramis smiled carrying the tray back upstairs, "I'll be better in no time."

 **Did I get ya? :) Ok, so now this story is taking an interesting turn. It'll be an Athos and Aramis centered story, with Porthos as a great caretaker. For those of you who want some good Athos hurt/comfort I promise, there will be plenty of it. So please don't leave the story so soon! There's more to come! Also, I treasure your reviews, so please keep commenting! I read every single one of them!**

Chapter 4 will be up soon, I promise. I think I've been doing pretty well with updateing these, huh? ;)


	4. Chapter 4

When Aramis had returned to Porthos' room, both his brothers were still in the same spot where he had left them.

Porthos' eyes lit up when he saw the full tray in Aramis' hands.

"And that's why you're my favorite." He joked.

Aramis hummed in amusement, "Because I'm the resourceful one or the handsome one?"

"The first," Came the chuckle.

Aramis laughed as he set the tray on the table for them. He brought the plate of bread and cheese to Athos and placed it on his lap. The swordsmen stared at it for a moment longer than Aramis liked.

"Eat it," He ordered keeping his voice firm, "Or I'll get the oatmeal."

Athos huffed in annoyance but a slight smile was evident on his face. If Aramis hadn't been watching him so intently, he would've missed it.

Porthos on the other hand, seated himself at the table and dug right into his food. Aramis was reminded that neither he or Porthos had eaten anything since lunch yesterday. That would explain his brother's immense appetite. But then again, this was Porthos...

"Sit down and eat something, Mis," Porthos spoke up, "You can't play medic on an empty stomach."

Aramis looked up into the warm brown eyes and smiled at the teasing. He sighed and sat down across from his brother and also tucked into his food.

"True," He took a sip of wine, "But I don't play medic, Porthos. After all these years, surely even you know that."

Porthos shook his head fondly. Despite the sarcasm, Porthos knew the marksman was right. He had never seen anyone in the Garrison with as much medical knowledge as his brother. Though he never had any formal training, Aramis had watched physicians before and was gifted in his skill with battle wounds.

Often there wasn't enough time to go out to find a doctor, so whenever a soldier took ill, Aramis' superior knowledge had been sought out. Porthos truly believed that the man should have been a seamstress. He had never witnessed anyone stitch a wound as neatly as he did. A patient was never left with a scar under Aramis' care.

Aramis had taken the role as their health care provider very seriously. He would never allow another doctor to touch his brothers unless he was there to supervise. He was usually the one to care for their injuries and had often worked to heal them, whenever they were hurt.

"I think I'll have to chat with Treville to see if we can get the day off," Aramis informed.

"Sounds like a good idea." Porthos agreed.

"There's no need to do that on my account." Athos insisted looking at the two of them sincerely.

Aramis looked at Porthos and than at Athos clearly puzzled.

"And what exactly do you suggest we do?"

Athos shrugged looking back at the floor.

"You and Porthos shouldn't have to miss your duties because of me," The guilt in his voice was obvious, "Go on and see what Treville needs. I'll be fine here."

Porthos shook his head, "There's no way we're leaving you here alone today, Thos."

"Especially not with the way you're probably feeling," Aramis added.

"It's not like I haven't dealt with a hangover before," Athos tried to keep the irritation out of voice, "Treville can let it go if I'm late, but you two are usually on time. What are you planning to do if-"

"There's no if," Aramis cut in, "We want to be here with you today. I'll just tell Treville that we need the day off, that's all."

"And you think he'll agree to that?" Athos raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Porthos smirked, "Aramis has a way with words. Especially with the captain."

"Thank you, Porthos," Aramis straightened the collar of this uniform in mock offense, "At least _someone_ still believes in my incredible capabilities."

Athos rolled his eyes again. It felt like that was his only response to Aramis' sarcasm.

"No arguing," Porthos' voice changed to sound a bit firmer than before, "We want to be here, alright?"

"Why?" Athos couldn't stop the question from escaping his mouth, but once it was out he regretted it.

Aramis' eyes softened and he looked down at his plate. He looked as if Athos had said something truly hurtful. He was instantly reminded of the look his brother gave him last night when he insulted him coldly.

Shaking the memory away, Athos forced himself to listen to Aramis' words.

"Because we love you," Aramis raised his head and looked at Athos right in the face, "Don't you know that?"

Athos suddenly felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He didn't know what to say. He knew his brothers loved him, of course. Had he failed them so terribly that they questioned wither he believed them or not?

Athos blinked in shock, "I...uh... I don't-"

He knew he owed them an explanation, but he didn't know if he could provide one for them. How could he tell them? What would he say?

"Athos," Porthos broke in gently as if he could read his thoughts, "Just take it slow."

Athos released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Maybe if they had stayed this long with him, they would listen to the truth after all.

"I don't know why I..." He swallowed thickly, closing his eyes. He took a moment to gather himself before looking at Aramis, "When you were speaking to me, I knew what you what you said was true. For a moment...I hated you. I hated the sight of you. I don't know why?"

Athos would have been lying to himself if he thought that he hadn't seen the hurt in Aramis' eyes. He knew he had put that hurt there and it ripped him apart inside to know that he had been responsible.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." He stood up quickly and was headed for the door, but Aramis stood up and blocked his way.

"Move, Aramis." He ordered not wanting to have this discussion.

"No," Aramis shook his head, "I won't let you go. Not like this. What happened last night was an accident. You were drunk-"

"Hitting you was an accident, yes," Athos shot back, "Drinking wasn't. I went there deliberately. I wanted to forget her and lose myself in the alcohol."

"Because you've been hurting," Porthos reasoned standing up as well, "I'm not saying that it's right, Athos. Only that it's understandable."

Athos sighed in exasperation. How could they not understand? Did they not see how evil he was? What a foul thing he had become?

"I don't deserve your sympathy!" He shouted, "You should throw me out of your sight! Look at what I did to you," He gestured to Aramis in anger, "I'm a monster!"

"No, your not!" Aramis shouted back furiously, "Don't you ever say that again, do you understand?"

"Why? It's true," Athos countered back, "Look at me! Look what I've become! The second I lay my eyes on her, I become someone I hardly recognize."

Porthos sighed, "Than maybe it's time to let her go."

"I can't!" Athos turned to stare at the big man, "Don't you get it? Are you blind! Look at me! I still want her! She's a cruel, evil, hideous, monster and I still love her!"

A silence reigned through the room.

"Athos..." Aramis sighed closing his eyes,

Athos knew that he was losing control of himself. He needed to get out of the small room before everything overcame him. He felt his chest tighten in anxiety and walked forward to go to the door.

"Stop!" Aramis pulled him back, "Stop running from this! You know you can't. Where will you go? Back to the tavern? Don't you know that doesn't work?"

Athos shrugged Aramis' hand off his arm. He knew his brother was right, but he wasn't ready to face it yet.

"Leave me, please?" Athos begged, "It's best for both you. Don't be involved with someone like me."

Aramis frowned as if he didn't understand what Athos had said. Because he probably didn't. He didn't know why he was doing this.

As Athos made his way to the door, Aramis walked after him. Athos kept going, not wanting to stop to argue anymore.

"Athos wait," Aramis called.

But, Athos kept walking. He had made it to the porch and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard an unmistakable shout.

He spun around just in time to see Aramis doubling over and falling to the ground. He was holding his stomach painfully, not seeming to be able to get up.

"Aramis!" Athos shouted running over to the fallen man. He fell to his knees and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Aramis had his eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain and was trying to take deep breaths to control the pain.

"What's wrong?" Athos tried to keep his voice calm, but his hands were shaking, "Aramis, tell me what hurts?"

"My...my stomach." Aramis groaned.

Athos didn't even realize that Porthos was next to him until he heard him speak.

"Lemme get you to bed, Mis."

Aramis nodded clenching his jaw shut tight.

Porthos got his hands under Aramis and as gently as possible lifted him up in his arms. Aramis still gave a cry of pain and Porthos hurried over to the bed to lay him down.

Once he was safely disposited on the bed, Porthos leaned over to grasp his hand tightly.

"Mis?" He whispered, "What do you need me to do?"

"Don't know..." Aramis winced, "My stomach...hurts."

Porthos let go of his hand and worked quickly to undo his shirt. He then lifted the cotton material up and felt sick at the sight that met his eyes.

Aramis' torso and ribs were covered a large deep purple bruise. It looked as if his ribs were broken, but without feeling them, Porthos couldn't tell.

"Aramis?" He gasped, "What the hell happened?"

"What?" Athos came around to his side. He couldn't help but drop his jaw at the bruising.

"Didn't hurt yesterday," Aramis bit his lip.

"Why didn't you say anything, you bloody idiot?" The big man growled, "How long have you been hiding this?"

Aramis just kept his eyes closed remaining silent.

"Answer me!" Porthos shouted feeling his composer slipping.

"Couldn't tell you...in front of Thos," The Spaniard admitted reluctantly.

Athos felt his stomach drop. He couldn't believe the words he had heard.

"You...what are you talking about?" He asked voice shaking.

"Athos, don't...don't feel bad. It was an a-accident."

"You mean when I kicked y-" Athos stopped to shocked by his own words to speak any further.

He didn't have to say anything though. Because as Porthos was examined Aramis' torso, he seemed to find the spot that was causing him pain. He pushed down on it was gentle as he could, but Aramis screamed out in pain.

"Easy, easy," He soothed, "I'm sorry."

Aramis paled dangerously, "M'gonna be sick," He mumbled.

Porthos quicky brought bucket by the bed and Aramis turned on his side to heave into it. Porthos sat by him, rubbing between his shoulders and moving his hair from his face. He whispered words of comfort to him, hoping to ease him through the pain as best he could.

Athos just continued to stare dumbfounded at Aramis' words.

It was only when Porthos himself seemed to pale that he was able to snap out of the shock.

"What is it?" He asked.

Porthos looked at Athos with worry written all over his face. He couldn't seem to speak, so Athos came over to see what he was looking at in the bucket.

Bright red blood was not what he had expected.

"Go get the doctor!" Porthos ordered. When Athos didn't move, he yelled, "Now!"

The shout prompted Athos into action. He bolted from the room and ran down the stairs jumping on the first horse he saw. As he galloped out of the Garrison, one thought kept spinning in his mind.

" _This is all my fault_."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while guys! My fanfic account was hacked into and my story was deleted. So, I had to change my password and do a series of other annoying things to bring it back. Just my luck! I did, however, have the story saved in my personal documents and just had to upload it as a new story.**

 **You may have noticed that your alerts and reviews are gone, I feel so bad. When I changed the password and logged back in I had to re-submit the story, therefore I lost all the previous reviews. Seriously, I wanted to cry because you guys gave me such great support. But, please just continue to leave reviews on the new chapters. I promise to keep responding.**

 **Thanks for sticking around! Now on to the actual entertaining stuff rather than my boring tech issues.**

Porthos had stayed seated by Aramis' side since Athos had left. His previous anger had worn off but was now turned into deep concern for his brother. Aramis had been sick twice more and was now laying back after the recent bout, just trying to regain his breathing.

Porthos had held him throughout the ordeal, rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort. He could tell the marksman was in a considerable amount of pain. His eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched in an attempt to fight the stabbing pain in his stomach.

"You ok, Mis?" Porthos asked holding onto his friend's hand. He knew it brought Aramis comfort even though he never had verbally said this.

"Still here." He forced a smile.

Porthos ran a hand through his hair both in a sign of comfort and to check for fever. His concern only grew deeper when he felt the warmth radiating off him.

"Don't look…so worried," Aramis smirked, "Might make the ladies turn against you."

Porthos shook his head in exasperation, "Now's not the time for joking, brother."

"Would you rather I cry?" He asked good-naturedly.

Porthos sighed, "I'd rather you told me the truth."

A silence flowed through the room as Aramis considered his brother's words. He knew that hiding his pain had been a foolish and dangerous thing to do, but he couldn't bear to speak the truth to Athos. He was afraid that the man would blame himself and Aramis was sure that he was.

"Mis?" Porthos prodded gently.

"It wasn't that bad," Aramis kept his voice quiet and even, "He didn't hurt me that bad, Porthos. I wasn't even in pain until…"

Porthos' own throat tightened as he saw Aramis close his eyes trying to control the tears that came. He leaned over and wiped them away with his thumb.

"It's alright."

"It's not," Aramis wept, "He's gonna blame himself, Porthos. You know he will. What if he starts drinking again?"

"Don't go thinking like that," Porthos replied, "Everything's gonna be fine. I'll make sure Athos won't go blaming himself."

"Please," Porthos' heart broke at the plea, "Porthos, make sure he doesn't. I don't want him to, it's not his fault."

"I know." Porthos reassured, "I know."

Aramis stared at him for a moment, before deciding that Porthos would handle it. He then closed his eyes, relaxing for the first time in days.

"Just let us take care, yeah?" Porthos squeezed his hand.

Aramis snorted, "We were supposed to be taking care of Athos."

"And we will," The bigger man insisted, "But right now we need to take care of you."

"I'm fine."

Porthos tried not to throttle the man.

"You are not, and you know it," He tried to keep the anger from his voice, "Hell Aramis, you have known it for some time. I wish you would've said something."

"What was I supposed to say?" Aramis looked at him incredulously, "Did you seriously think I would say something right in front of him? You heard him earlier, all the things he said. He feels guilty enough for everything."

"That didn't mean that you couldn't say something to me." Porthos sighed.

"I wanted to," Aramis admitted, "I just…didn't know how."

Porthos looked into his brother's eyes. He hated the pain he saw there because he didn't know how to help.

Before he could say anything more, Athos suddenly burst through the door with Treville and Dr. Lemay close behind him.

"Finally, "Porthos stood up, "We've been waiting."

"My apologies," Dr. Lemay set his bag on the table and promptly began to wash his hands in the basin, "I was examining the King's treasurer. He seemed to have a severe case of tonsillitis."

"Well Aramis is in severe pain, so if you could just take a look at him, please?" Athos kept his tone controlled but inside he could feel his frustration brewing.

Porthos crossed the room to stand by Athos' side. He wrapped a comforting hand around him and Athos found himself calming considerably from the bigger man's presence.

"What in God's name happened?" Treville came to stand next to the pair, his eyes filled with a deep concern. This concern was hidden by his gruff tone, but both Athos and Porthos saw through it.

Athos' throat tightened.

"Captain," He sighed looking into his superior's face, "There was negligence on my part and fully accept the consequences or punishment that you see fit."

"What are you talking about, Athos?" Treville frowned.

"Aramis was injured by-"

"A horse," The marksman spoke up from where he lay on the bed, "I fell from my horse yesterday, Captain. She was spooked by a cat."

"A cat?" Treville repeated obviously considering if he believed the story.

Aramis nodded keeping his gaze fixed on their Captain, not wanting to see his brother's reaction.

Treville turned to Athos again, "And why would you take responsibility for this?"

Before Athos could speak, Aramis cut in again.

"Being the leader, Athos has taken it upon himself to believe that he should've caught me before I hit the ground. He was riding next to me when I fell and landed got kicked by the horse," He closed his eyes for a moment in pain before recovering himself again, "But, he's not at fault. He did everything he could to help…as always. That's why he's our leader."

The words were spoken with such sincerity, Athos almost forgot what he was actually speaking of. Porthos just smiled warmly at Aramis grateful that the man had thought the story through quickly enough.

"Well gentlemen," Lemay rolled up his sleeves, "I'm going to need to perform a full body examination. So, some privacy for a moment would be excellent."

Treville nodded and pulled his men out of the room, leaving the doctor and Aramis alone. He stole a glance and his other two men and didn't fail to notice how Porthos had kept his hand on Athos the entire time. Even now he was reluctant to let go as they made their way down the stairs.

"Well," He sighed, "Nothing more we can do but wait."

He noticed the way Athos seemed to carry a faraway look in his eyes. He debated wither he should question his Lieutenant on the matter, but Athos spoke up too soon.

"I need to check the horses." And with that simple excuse, he was walking off to the barn without glancing back once.  
When Athos was out of hearing distance, Treville turned his gaze to Porthos. The man was watching Athos' retreating back with his eyes so full of sadness that Treville was surprised he was managing to hold it together.

"Porthos?" He asked.

Porthos' eyes snapped back to meet his, all trace of sadness gone, "Captain." He replied formerly.

Treville's own eyes softened, "Care to tell me what's going on?"

Porthos kept his face detached, "No sir."

He wasn't sure why the words seemed to fill him with dread rather than comfort him. But then again, this was these three. Trouble followed them like a shadow.

"Do I need to be concerned?"

He hoped the simple question was enough to let on what he thought. He needed Porthos to know that while he didn't know what exactly was going on, he still knew something was wrong.

Badly wrong.

"No sir," Porthos shook his head, "Just worried about Aramis. I need to check on him too." He pointed toward the barn where Athos had left to.

Treville nodded, watching as Porthos walked away.

Whatever the three of them had been through, it had been serious enough. Serious enough for Aramis to come up with a story, Athos to feel guilt, and Porthos to lie to his face. And whatever it was, Treville meant to get to the bottom of it.

With or without their cooperation.

 **There's more to come soon! So now things look like they have taken a turn for the worse. But, that's ho some great hurt/comfort can happen. Hoe you all like my Treville character coming in and giving the boys some proper parents. Goodness knows they need it. I apologize again for my goofy tech issues, especially if it's caused anybody inconvenience. But, things should work better now, Please keep reviewing! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Athos leaned against the stall stroking Roger's nose. The animal seemed to have sensed his master's distress and was resting his snout against his chest.

Athos sighed deeply. He couldn't decide if was angry or relieved. He was ashamed of himself, for feeling relief at not having to explain things to the Captain. Treville was a good and honest but he had never taken intoxication in his men lightly. He had trained them to be men of honor and dignity. To keep oneself in check at all times, even off duty.

That was why Athos had taken to the Captain so quickly. The man shepherded his soldiers with gentle instruction but also held them accountable for their actions. Athos had been relieved when he was first commissioned among the Musketeers because Treville held no bias in him. He didn't treat Athos with indifference because of his past life of nobility. He simply saw the potential he had as a soldier.

Athos was sure that Treville would be disappointed in him for this and he had good reason to be. An honorable Musketeer did not go around beating his brothers because of his inability to remain sober. He knew he had disgraced that pledge by his actions. Why did Treville keep him as a Musketeer, even after everything he was?

He was partially angry with Aramis for his lie. He didn't deserve praise. He didn't deserve to be spared punishment. He had wanted to tell Treville the truth and be sent away from the Garrison. But, somewhere deep inside, he felt relief. Relief because he still was able to keep his guilt to himself. Relief because he was not to be sent away from his brothers...yet. As much as he believed that he deserved it, Athos also had to admit that he wanted to stay. Being in the Musketeers had just felt right to him. So, at least he still was able to maintain this position.

But for how long?

Roger, who was always able to tell when Athos was overthinking, rubbed his nose against his master's chest, to try to calm him.

Athos could help the smirk, "What? Have I disappointed you too?"

Roger rubbed his face, indicating that he was in fact, not disappointed.

"I've subjected to talking to a horse." Athos shook his head in amusement at the situation.

Roger snorted in mock annoyance.

"I know," Athos rubbed the animal's neck, "I know."

Silence came over the barn for a moment as both the animal and his master absorbed each other's company.

"You remember Thomas' corral?" Athos kept his voice hushed for that only Roger could hear, "He used to love taking you out and racing you around. I told him that he would never learn to ride you and I was right. You apparently only ever listened to me."

Roger bobbed his head up and down in agreement and Athos had to laugh. It was like talking to an old friend, whenever he was with Roger.

"Then she came," He whispered sadly, "And I lost myself to her. Everything was so good I don't why she-" He broke off unable to continue. He released a harsh breath and Roger brought his head closer, sensing his master's sadness.

Athos laid a hand on the horse's nose looking at the floor.

"She lied about everything. And now she's deciding to lie about loving the King. She never loved a single thing in her entire life."

Tears burned his eyes as he remembered dancing with her, stealing kisses under a tree, running through the fields, the smell of her perfume, the light-hearted feeling he used to get from looking into her eyes...

Before he even realized it, Athos felt tears falling down his face. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against Roger's neck. The horse stayed still and strong, waiting until the wave had calmed inside. He did not move as Athos dug his fingers in his mane but just stayed close.

Athos took in a deep breath to try and steady his racing heart. He hated her. Hated how she could still do this to him, even when she was not there.

"Talking to your horse again, huh?" Porthos' voice was heard, "I knew Aramis had gotten you into that."

Athos opened his eyes and quickly wiped a gloved hand over his face, erasing any traces of pain that there might've been. He felt embarrassed, not knowing how much Porthos had heard of his private thoughts.

Clearing his throat, Athos turned to look at Porthos, who was now walking up to him.

"Where's the doctor?" He asked trying to change the subject before the man would try to prod anything out of him.

Porthos shook his head sadly, "He's still with him."

Athos nodded and grabbed a brush from nearby. He then started brushing out Roger's black coat with purpose.

"I have some work to do." He hoped the excuse would be enough to send Porthos away.

But, the bigger man just leaned against the stall ignoring the words. He rubbed his beard thoughtfully and then turned his gaze outside.

"I think Treville suspects something."

"Oh?" Came the uninterested answer.

"Reckon he won't let anything fester for long."

"Good," Athos replied and Porthos winced at the anger in his voice, "I hope he finds out the truth. In fact, I intend to tell him the truth myself, since Aramis seems so hell bent on lying to him and us."

"I don't think he knew how to tell him the truth, Athos." Porthos tried to reason.

"Well, it was stupid, foolish thing to do," Athos threw the brush down in anger and turned his heated gaze onto to Porthos, "I didn't ask him to lie and make me look like the hero. The man can't seem to face the truth. That he's wasting his time with me, you both are!"

Porthos stepped forward and grabbed Athos by his collar shoving him up against the wall, but not hard enough to cause any pain. Memories of the night in the tavern played all too fresh in his mind and he wasn't eager to have to fight his brother again.

He just held him there and Athos made no move to fight him. He just stared back intently, eyes brewing in anger.

"Don't talk that way about him," Porthos growled trying to keep his own temper in check, "He's only trying to help you."

"I don't need anyone's help," Athos retorted, "Why do you both want to stay with me?"

He was so angry he could feel himself shaking, but it was a question that had been burning in the back of his mind for weeks now. He had to know the truth. Was it pity? Sympathy? False obligation?

Porthos stared at him with wide eyes, "How can you not understand? Does this," He gestured between them, "Mean nothing to you? What we have or have had for years?"

"I don't want your sympathy," Athos pushed him away, "Just speak the truth if you have to, but don't give me fake pity. Tell me what a burden I am, damn you." He ran out of breath and had to pause to get air into his lungs, "Just say it!" He shouted.

"Say what?" Porthos asked frowning in confusion.

"Tell me what I wreck I am! What a burden I am on you two!" He felt the anger fueling as Porthos remained silent, "Just say it!" He yelled even louder than the first time.

Porthos lowered his gaze to the floor and closed his eyes, Athos could have sworn he saw tears glistening in the dark brown orbs. He raised his eyes and they harbored a certain firmness in them, that the swordsmen had not seen before.

"No," He shook his head, "I won't say that because it's not true. You may believe it, but Aramis and I don't. I know you hate her, but your hate for her is not gonna make us hate you."

Athos swallowed not quite sure what to do or say next. He wasn't sure if Porthos was lying, but he couldn't deny the honesty he saw reflecting back at him.

Luckily, he didn't have to say anything more, because Treville entered the barn. He glanced at both men clearly aware that something was going on between them.

"Dr. Lemay has finished his examination," He sighed, "He wants to see you both."

Whatever words were still left between the pair were quickly forgotten as they both raced up the stairs. Athos wasn't sure who made it there first because the next he knew, they were both standing in the room watching Dr. Lemay intently.

"Gentlemen," The doctor arose from his seat wiping his hands with a cloth, "I'm sorry you had to wait so long. The examination took longer than I anticipated and-"

"With the greatest of respect doctor please just get to the point." Athos sighed.

"Athos," Aramis chastized from where he lay on the bed, "Be polite. After all, I'm not up to playing the gentlemen for you."

Athos couldn't help the eye roll that came next but Aramis grinned anyway.

"Yes, of course," Lemay smiled patiently, "Your friend is suffering from a condition known as internal hemorrhaging. It's a bleeding coming from the inside. In this case, it was caused by severe impact," He turned back to Aramis, "I would imagine the kick you took from your horse."

Aramis nodded not daring to look at Athos for the moment.

"What can be done to treat it?" He asked keeping his mind on the task at hand.

"Well, in your case the bruising on your stomach indicates the location of the bleeding. You have a broken blood vessel which needs to be repaired from the inside. Therefore, I must conclude that by opening your stomach cavities, I can drain out the excess blood and repair the damaged vessel."

Aramis looked at the doctor and then his brothers.

"So you want to cut me open?"

"That is the only treatment plan that will work efficiently, I'm afraid." Lemay sighed, "If I thought there was a second solution I would try it first, I assure you. But, the bleeding is serious and if left untreated it..." He paused.

"What?" Aramis urged.

"It left untreated organ failure, perhaps extensive bleeding and then eventually death." He finished.

Athos felt his own stomach tighten.

"You sure of this?" He asked.

"I've never seen a case where an individual survived without this treatment."

"How dangerous is the procedure?" Aramis asked thinking about the treatment plan from a medical standpoint.

"All surgeries have their complications and risks," Lemay crossed his arms, "I've done this procedure before, but each case is different. One must consider the severity of the bleeding, age, body mass, general health-"

"Will you cut the foreign language," Porthos growled, "You know what he's saying. If you operate, will he have a chance to live?"

A silence flowed through the room and Athos was ready to lunge at the doctor. Thankfully, he finally spoke.

"I can't guarantee what happens in surgery," He said, "But I can assure you that your chances of living are far greater with this procedure. If left untreated the bleeding will cause inevitable death. If the operation is successful than all should be well. If not then, we leave it in God's hands."

Athos huffed in annoyance. It always amazed how people turned to the Almighty God as a last alternative. If miracles could possibly happen, why did they wait until the end to ask?

"Mis?" Porthos stared at the marksman who had a thoughtful look on his face.

Aramis glanced at them both. He could see the worry apparent in their eyes. He hated to be the source of that worry. Hated the guilt he saw behind his brother's blue eyes. He wished he could remove it, but he knew it would take time.

"What other chance to do we have?" He asked them.

Neither Porthos or Athos could argue with the question. If Aramis decided to have the operation he at least had a chance. Perhaps it looked bleak and small, but it was there. And both men held onto that chance with all the faith they had.

"I'll try the operation," Aramis agreed, "But, I want one promise on your part." He looked at the doctor with a firmness that Athos did not often see.

Dr. Lemay looked at his patient expectantly.

"Both my brothers capable of taking care of me. I trust them with my life and no one else. They are my caregivers as well. If any complications arise during my treatment and I'm unable to make any decisions for myself, you will do, as they say, understand?"

Lemay smiled, "You will have no arguments from me. As the one doctor who has treated you several times, I believe that they know better than you at times anyway."

Aramis smirked lightly, "Thank you for the vote of confidence in me, doctor."

"Anytime," Lemay winked, "Now, I'll have to get my supplies from my saddle bag. I'll be back in a minute."

Once all three men were alone, Aramis sighed deeply.

"You can yell at me know if you want."

Porthos shook his head and sat by Aramis' side, "We're not going to yell at you for making the right decision."

Aramis nodded and took the moment to look at both men.

"Don't look so worried," He chided softly, "I'll be fine. It's gonna take more than a doctor's tools to get rid of me."

He noticed that Athos had refused to meet his gaze since they had been alone.

"Athos?" He whispered.

The swordsmen looked at him with concern.

"Come here," He motioned scooting over and making room.

Athos crossed the room and say next to him. He remained silent the entire time.

"No matter what happens," Aramis looked at the pair, "This stays between us. If Treville asks, I was kicked by my horse."

Porthos sighed but didn't say a word. Athos, on the other hand, shook his head with his eyes closed.

"Look," Aramis went on, "What happened was an accident. A stupid mistake made on my part. I should've told you both but instead, I hide an injury. I'm sorry."

Athos stared at Aramis as if he'd grown another head.

"Are you seriously apologizing for hiding an injury I gave you!"

"It ain't your fault, Aramis," Porthos cut in, "But it's not Athos' fault either. Things just happen, alright?"

"No, I suppose it's _your_ fault," Athos remarked sarcastically.

"Well," The bigger man shook his head, "I should've been watching you closer than I was. Instead, I let you go each night to the tavern. Maybe I am to blame somewhat."

"That's not true," Aramis argued, "You've been there for both of us. You always are, no matter what."

Porthos stared at him for a while trying to determine if he believed the marksman's words or not. Athos could tell by his eyes that he didn't.

Sighing in frustration **,** Athos looked at them each intently.

"Have you both completely lost your minds?"

"Yes," Aramis smiled, "That's why we all make a good team. Because we're all somewhat broken."

Porthos tried to hide his smirk and Athos' mouth dropped in shock at Aramis' bold words.

"Oh don't look at me like I'm Spanish," Aramis closed his eyes, "You know I'm right."

And that was the problem. Athos knew just how very true those words were. He just thought that he was the only one who felt like that. To hear Aramis said it so... _normally_ was quite surprising.

"Alright," He spoke again, "I'm not going to have you feeling guilty about something a trivial as this. If something happens to me-"

"Aramis don't." Porthos sighed.

"If something happens to me," Aramis repeated with seriousness, "I need to know that you're ok," He stared at Athos, "Keep this between us and forget it. You did nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong?" Athos' eyes widened, "You're having an operation because of me, Mis."

"Please?" Aramis closed his eyes and Athos wasn't sure if he was close to tears or not, "Please, don't blame yourself. For me?"

Athos looked at the ridiculous pair that he called brothers. The ones who fixed his broken pieces. Maybe Aramis was right. Maybe they were all a little broken. Athos didn't feel broken though. Then a thought dawned on him. Perhaps he didn't feel broken because of _them_. Yes, they were all a little broken, but together they filled in the broken pieces and made each other whole as one.

"Athos?" Porthos interrupted his thoughts.

The swordsmen sighed, "Fine, I'll try. I can't make any promises and I won't swear to you something that I might not be able to do."

"I know," Aramis took his hand and squeezed, "Just try. That's all I ask. No matter what happens, we'll be here, Nothing's going to happen to me."

"I better not," Athos glanced at him, "Because if anything does I'll punch you so hard even God won't want to see your face in Heaven."

Aramis laughed lightly, "I thought you were gonna say that you'd be by my side, but that works too."

"I will be," He vowed.

Aramis nodded, "I know," He looked at them both again, "All for one."

Porthos and Athos gripped his hand firmly, "One for all."

 **Well, now we're heading into the deep end of the story. Thanks for sticking around for the ride everybody. More to come soon, I promise. We still have to see** ** _how_** **Athos plans on letting go of his guilt. And will poor Aramis survive the operation? We shall see! Thanks again to all who reviewed too! I cherish your words and respond to them all! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Athos stood next to his brother's bedside. Dr. Lemay had given Aramis some chloroform and the man was asleep within minutes. He just prayed that he would remain in that state throughout the procedure.

He glanced back at Porthos, who stood at the foot of the bed. His back was rigid and the intense look on his face reminded Athos of times where he had watched the bigger man take a night watch on the road. Now Porthos seemed to be holding guard over their family. He remained tall, strong and unmoving. It gave Athos a sense a peace throughout the complications around them.

They both knew that Lemay would probably ask them to leave, but that wasn't apart of Athos' plan. One look at Porthos told him the same. They would stay no matter what.

As if on cue, the doctor looked at both men questioningly.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to have to ask you both to wait outside until the procedure is finished."

Porthos was the first to shake his head, "We're not leaving him."

"Operations are a difficult thing to witness," Lemay frowned, "The next hour won't be pretty."

"And as soldiers, it is something we've witnessed before," Athos pointed out, "Now if you please..."

"I'm afraid I must insist," Athos released a frustrated breath, but Lemay went on, "I cannot afford any distractions."

"And we cannot afford any mistakes," Athos replied staring into the doctor's face, "No doubt this will be unpleasant for us all, so I suggest that you begin your work and not keep this man suffering any longer."

Lemay looked at his patient as he considered the man's words. He then nodded reluctantly.

"I'm most certain of the location of the bleeding due to the area where the bruising can be found. I'll make the incision near this area and drain the excessive blood first and then work to repair the damaged blood vessel."

Athos nodded. He braced himself for whatever would happen next. He knew that he probably should go wait outside, but he didn't feel right about leaving his brother alone. Just the thought of Aramis unconscious, with only the doctor, possibly dying...it just felt wrong. He owed this to Aramis. While he didn't want to see what Dr. Lemay would do, Athos felt that this was his punishment. To be forced to stand and watch the extent of the damage that he had caused.

And while it wasn't pleasant, Athos welcomed any kind of punishment. As long as there was something tangible, that he could do. This was his guilt to bear and he would bear it strongly if it made Aramis well again.

He took a deep breath as Lemay worked quietly. His hands were shaking a bit but seemed to do no damage. Athos smiled as he thought of what Aramis would say if he saw it now. He was sure without a doubt, that his brother had the steadiest hands in the world. It brought an added skill to his remarkable stitching.

"I'll need a bucket or a pan if you have one," Lemay asked.

Porthos turned and retrieved the bucket from the corner. He brought it over to where the doctor was and set it on the ground beneath them.

Athos forced himself to look away from where Lemay was working to drain the blood. Being a soldier had made him accustomed to the violent and often gut-churning sights that they were met with. Yet, this seemed to affect him very much. It was his brother that was laying here, not some unfortunate stranger who had been a victim of crime or war. And the wound was not received from battle but was inflicted on the man by himself. He had done this and that thought alone made him sick.

"Athos?" He heard Porthos whisper.

Athos tore his eyes away from their brother and saw Porthos looking at him sympathetically. He hated the pity he saw but also craved it. As a reassurance that somehow, he was not as much a failure as he thought.

"You alright?" He asked.

Taking a breath, he nodded slowly.

"We can head outside if you want."

"No," Athos objected, "No, we stay here with him."

He felt the tightness in his chest at the look of obvious relief on Porthos' face. It was clear that the man didn't want to leave either. They had promised to look after their brother and they would.

Hours had gone by before Dr. Lemay was finally through. He had drained the blood as he informed and repaired the broken blood vessel. It had taken longer than Athos had expected, but he would be content to stand there forever. He released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding when Lemay finished the stitching.

"That should do it," He sighed, "I do believe it's safe to say that this operation was a successful one."

"So what now?" Porthos inquired looking at the freshly applied stitching.

"We wait," Came the tired reply, "See how he fares through the night. Pray to God that infection does not set in and keep him comfortable. Tearing open these stitches will give him worse pain then before."

"Will he wake up?" Athos kept his gazed fixed on Aramis' sleeping face.

"In time yes," Lemay wiped his hands with a towel, "However, his body needs to rest so he'll probably be waking and sleeping throughout the next 24 hours. After losing so much blood, he needs to time to recover and regain his strength. We'll need to keep him hydrated and watch closely for signs of infection."

"No problem," Porthos pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed, "We'll be watching im' like a hawk."

Lemay smiled at the pair, "Yes, I believe you will. You know rest is always a beneficial option."

"I think it's best if someone is with him," Athos replied, "Just in case he wakes up."

Dr. Lemay sighed in defeat. He had a feeling that both men wouldn't listen to reason, but that didn't stop him from trying. He had heard stories about these men from Captain Treville. Treville had referred to them as blood, heart, and brain. Like each organ, so different in cause and work, but each of the three was essential for the body's survival. Unable to function without the other.

Soulmate was the word that popped into Lemay's head as he watched the pair care for their ill comrade, Porthos had taken his seat close to the man and was now holding his hand firmly. As if to indicate his presence somehow. It seemed ridiculous since the fact of the matter was that once a person was in the unconscious state, he or she was not aware of their surroundings.

Yet the young doctor was utterly surprised to see his patient turn his head slowly to Porthos as if he was seeking out the source of comfort. Athos, who had taken a clean cloth and soaked it in cold water, was leaning over the sick man bathing his face as gently as possible. Shushed whispers could be heard from where he stood, but whatever the man was saying was a mystery.

Dr. Lemay had a feeling it was only for the patient's ears anyway.

But, _how_ did they seem to communicate with an unconscious man, was what he wondered. It was obvious that both men seemed to know what Aramis needed, even if the man was not capable of telling them. Perhaps that was why Aramis had given them the role of caregiver.

Whatever the reason, Lemay was sure that they were doing just fine without him disrupting.

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind," He spoke softly, "I think I'll go and clean up a bit perhaps get something to eat as well."

Both Porthos and Athos turned to meet his gaze and Lemay was surprised at the warmth he saw. When allowed to care for their brother, each man seemed to be very cooperative.

"By all means doctor," Athos nodded, "We'll take care of Aramis. Thank you for what you've done. I'm sure Treville will be happy to show you an extra room in the Garrison where you can rest."

And with a hasty nod, Dr. Lemay exited the room to leave both men to their task at hand.

 **Sorry if this chapter seemed short and dull. I wasn't originally going to write this scene, but I felt like it added depth to the story. Maybe I was wrong, but I just don't feel too happy with this chapter. Like Athos and Porthos, I just want Aramis to wake up. I hope it was ok that skipped over all the really long operation parts. I had a hard time writing it and just decided that I would move to the next part. I also didn't want to disturb any sensitive audience. Hopefully, the content filled in enough spaces. Chapter 8 will be much better, I promise! We just had to slide over some steady scenes for more angst. :)**

 **As always, feel free to review. I read and respond to them all! Cheers!**


	8. Chapter 8

Porthos had stepped out for a moment to tell Treville of Aramis' progress. While he didn't want to leave Athos alone, the swordsman had insisted, stating that they're superior needed to informed of the news.

That seemed to do the trick and Porthos had left the room promising to return quickly. Athos smirked at the man's retreating back. While neither one of them was fond of leaving the other alone in times like these, it was helpful that they were a trio. One man was always able to take care of the physical things, confident that the second could handle the caretaking.

Although Athos realized that there wasn't much to do while Aramis was asleep. The marksman had not moved once since the operation had been finished. Athos was concerned and secretly relieved. While he wanted nothing more than to see those brown eyes full of life awaken, he knew that Aramis would need to rest to regain his strength.

Sighing to himself, Athos leaned forward and took his brother's limp hand in his. It worked to still his racing thoughts for a moment. Just having this contact grounded him somewhat.

"You shouldn't have forgiven me so easily," He whispered in the quiet room, "You in this state because of me. This is all my fault and you know it. Why did you lie to Treville? To take the blame off me?"

The other man just laid still on the bed unmoving.

Tears burned Athos' vision and he wiped them away with a frustrated sigh, "Why don't I ever listen to you? God knows how many times you've told me to stop the drinking. How many times you and Porthos took the blame for me that you didn't deserve."

He remembered throughout their years together, Aramis pleading with him to stay at the Garrison. Aramis warning him of the dangers his drinking could cause. Yet the man never ridiculed him. Instead, he would always give him a compassionate smile and silently care for him on those terrible mornings. When he would stumble in the evenings intoxicated and sobbing, it was his brothers that would always care for him.

They would follow him and guard him as he drowned his sorrows in alcohol. Then they would walk him home making sure that he was safe in his room. Porthos would never leave his side, always sleeping right next to him. He would cry on Aramis' shoulder while the marksman would hold him tightly.

If Athos had suspected that those wine-soaked, painful nights would lead to this, he would never touch a drop again.

"I'm so sorry," He shook his head, "I never meant for... I don't know how I could've let this happen."

"You didn't." Athos closed his eyes at the sound of Porthos' voice behind him. He hated and relished the strong hand that laid on his shoulders.

He heard the bigger man's footsteps as he came around and squatted down in front of his brother.

"Athos," Porthos sighed, "You've got to stop blaming yourself. Both Aramis and I know that you didn't mean it. You would never purposefully hurt us."

"But don't you see?" The man whispered. Porthos noticed the exhaustion behind his eyes, "That's what I do. I hurt those that I loved most. It's just how I am. First, my wife, then Thomas and now..." He nudged his head over to where Aramis lay asleep.

Porthos licked his lips nodding thoughtfully, "Yeah ya know, you always mention that. How much you hurt her. Are you forgetting what she did?"

Athos blinked at his brother thoughtfully.

"She's a murderer, Athos," The bigger man went on gently, "You had to punish her. She killed your brother-"

"I know what she did!" Athos hissed.

Porthos sighed looking at the floor. The wall was back up as soon as it had been down.

Athos sighed closing his eyes for a moment. He knew it was unfair to hurt Porthos, but the man just didn't understand. And how could he? The entire situation was unnatural.

"Would you do the same thing?"

Porthos raised his eyes to meet Athos' gaze.

"What?" He frowned hoping Athos was not asking what he thought.

"If you had been in my position, would you have killed the woman you loved?" Athos just stared back at him unfazed by his own words.

Porthos took a breath and released it slowly.

"Yes."

Athos' head shot up and stared at Porthos was a mix of intrigue and fascination.

"I wouldn't want to kill a woman," Porthos shrugged, "Especially if I loved her. But, if she ever would've harmed you two," He shook his head finding it difficult to fathom the situation, "I would in a second."

Athos couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had always known in his heart that both Aramis and Porthos were better men than he. That they would never stoop themselves as low as he had with Milady. So, to hear Porthos' admittance was shocking. To know that his brother, a man of strength and honor would...

"Why?" He couldn't stop the question, "Why would you ever-"

"Because I love you," Porthos cut in. He grasped Athos' hand and held it tightly, "You two are my everything. My only family. You always mention duty but, I know you loved your brother."

Love. It had been something that had seemed foreign to him after the taint of what had happened. He had not always been so aloof or detached. He used to enjoy his life and love passionately. He remembered all too well, the jesting between his brother and himself. The parties and entertainment that he had taken part in with his parents.

The day he met her though, everything had changed. He could only feel the pain and shame from what she had done. Now looking back on those earlier years felt like going back to an old dream. Foggy and grey around the edges. Only feeling and sounds were felt when he remembered.

Ironically, the day of Thomas' death had been burned in his mind. He could remember every detail as if he was there again...

 _"Help!" A shriek was heard, "Your brother is dead!"_

 _Catherine?_

 _He could still see Thomas' body lying there limp. blood pooling around him. A bloody dagger in her smooth hands. Red staining her white dress like a symbol of evil._

 _"Was it all a lie?"_

 _"You have to help me get out of this?"_

 _"Did you ever love me?"_

 _"Athos, do what you have to," Catherine had said, "Kill her and bury her lies with her."_

 _"Make your peace with God, Anne. For you must die."_

"Athos?"

Athos blinked and was surprised to feel a strong hands holding his face.

"It's alright," He recognized the deep voice, "Just follow me back."

"Porthos?" He gazed into the bigger man's warm brown eyes.

"That's right, it's me. The one and only," Athos felt secure by the friendly smile, "You with me?"

A firm nod gave Porthos enough confidence to feel like he could release his brother.

Athos took in a deep cleansing breath. It happened all too often. He was ashamed to admit it.

"Memories are a hard thing to forget," Porthos stood up and walked back over to Aramis. He silently grabbed the abandoned cloth and bathed his face again, "They don't change with time."

Athos just continued to look at the floor.

"I'll still hear my mum sometimes," Porthos went on, "Her voice, her laugh. The way she would call my name when I was in trouble, which was always." He chuckled.

Athos smirked at the description. He could picture a younger Porthos, running through the streets giving his mother worry.

"She must've been a beautiful woman."

"She was," Porthos nodded, "Got more trouble than she deserved. But, she always handled it with a smile," His face grew serious at his next words, "She didn't deserve to die in that gutter. She didn't deserve all the hell she got."

Athos just listened quietly knowing now was not the time to respond.

Porthos shook his head as if to wipe away the thoughts, "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I know what it's like to get stuck in your thoughts. I know that it's hard to get your mind away from her and that's why you drink. You still remember Thomas' death and it hurts you. You get that far away look on your face and you lose yourself."

He tried to hide the look of shock on his face. He obviously didn't do it well enough, because Porthos just gave him a knowingly look.

"How did you-"

"You think we didn't notice," He replied, "It's easy to see. Especially since we know you so well. Aramis was the first to mention it. He sees more than me sometimes."

Yes, that would make sense. Because Aramis knew far too much about this kind of thing. Because he carried a similar weight on his own young shoulders.

"Nothing ever slips past you two, does it?" Athos couldn't help the smirk.

"Well, not the important stuff," Porthos grinned, "I mean we forget those meetings with Treville sometimes."

Both men chuckled fondly at the statement. Athos noticed a tiny bit of lightness that he felt in his chest. Somehow, someway, Porthos could read him like an open book. He thought that he had done a pretty good job of hiding it, but his brothers just knew him too well.

"And you never need to hide it from us," Porthos whispered, "Cause' we know how you feel. Aramis and I will never see you as anything but a wise, honorable and good man, Ath. No matter what happened in the past. Even if you never believe it, you did the right thing."

Athos looked at the floor as emotions hit the surface. He didn't want to lose it here and now. There would be time for that later, once Aramis was better.

Porthos quickly stepped over and laid a reassuring hand on his tense shoulder. He thumbed away a stray tear and Athos breathed deeply.

"Thank you." He whispered, voice thick as he tried to fight for control.

Porthos rubbed hair fondly, "I happen to love you, ya posh idiot."

Before Athos could respond a familiar groan was heard.

Porthos stalked over to the bed and leaned close trying to see if Aramis was awake.

"Mis?" He whispered, "You with us?"

Athos, who had come by the other side of the bed, noticed the small tremors that seemed to be taken over the man's body.

"Aramis?" He called gently placing a hand on his brother's cheek.

He silently cursed at the alarming heat he felt radiating off of the marksman.

"He's burning up," He said looking at Porthos, whose eyes were clouded with concern.

"Doc said that might be a problem." He replied hating the guilt he saw brewing deep inside the blue eyes.

Both men watched in concern as Aramis groaned again and tried to move.

"Mis," Porthos held his arms gently trying to stop the sudden movement, "Hey listen, you gotta stay still alright."

"Porthos?" Porthos was happy to hear the quiet painful mumble but was concerned when he saw the pain the dark brown eyes.

"Yeah, that's right," He smiled, "How ya feeling?"

"Hurts," Aramis winced trying to move.

Athos felt his heart tighten. Aramis never admitted pain. So for him to admit it to them right now, proved that the situation was serious.

"Porthos, go get Lemay," Athos ordered and he watched his brother dash out of the room.

He then turned his attention to his sick brother. He grabbed the washcloth and bathed his neck and chest, hoping to bring down the fever.

"Ath," Aramis whispered, "Hurts...please."

Athos grabbed his hand and used his other to smooth the curls from his face.

"It's alright," He soothed, "I'm here. I'm right here. Just stay with me, you hear me? Stay with us, Aramis."

He wasn't sure how much the man could understand, but he silently hoped that something in Aramis would fight and fight hard.

Because neither he or Porthos would lose him now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! Just wanted to thank you all for having so much patience in waiting for Chapter 8. Last week was crazy and I wasn't able to do as much writing as I wanted. This piece took me awhile to write but I wanted to finish it and give you all a special treat. This feels like the turning point in the story for me. Please send me your reviews, I always respond.**

 **Also, I feel like I should put up a warning here. The following scenes aren't too graphic but animal attack/death is just mentioned briefly. More like a memory and it's quick too. Just thought I'd let you know if it's something that turns you off.**

 **Enjoy Chapter 9! :)**

Dr. Lemay had returned with Porthos and had immediately begun examining Aramis again.

Athos and Porthos waited by his side, eager to know if there was anything they could do to help their comrade. He was still tossing and turning in pain, and Athos was sure that if they were not there to calm him, Aramis would've torn his stitches out already.

It seemed like an eternity, but Lemay finally steps back from his patient and looked at both men.

"It's not so good and it's not so bad," He voice was steady, "I don't think the infection has set in. I won't be able to confirm anything until he's awake. But, his fever's high. I think it might be his body's way of fighting off the infection. We'll have to keep a close eye on him and hope that it doesn't get any worse."

"Is there still a possibility that he could get an infection?" Athos asked.

Lemay sighed, "Unfortunately with wounds, infection is always a chance. Let's just hope Aramis stays strong enough to fight it."

"I gave him some water when he woke up," The swordsman informed, "He was alert enough to take a few sips."

"That is a good sign," Lemay praised, "He'll need to remain hydrated. If he wakes again, perhaps we can get some broth into him. And I'll be able to examine him better that way and hopefully rule out infection."

"So what do we do?" Porthos asked sitting in the chair next to his friend's bed.

"Exactly what you have been," The doctor replied, "Stay with him, keep working to bring his fever down. I'm going to make an herbal tea that will hopefully keep it at bay. By any chance, do you have any herbs in your Garrison?"

Porthos and Athos both gave each other a look. The doctor frowned, not sure what the look meant.

Porthos smirked, "Aramis uses them all the time. He swears that it's the only cure when he gets sick."

"He's used them on us many times," Athos added.

"That's good to know," Lemay smiled, "Many people don't believe in the practice of herbal medicine, but I've used them many times and always have a positive outcome."

"I'll show you where he keeps it." Porthos offered and walked out of the room down the hall to his brother's room. Lemay was close at his side.

When they entered, the bigger man pointed to a shelf where jars full of greenery were placed.

"He keeps them all in here," He pulled a few sprigs out of the jar and took a tentative sniff, "Never quite know what he does with them all."

Porthos had seen his brother many times sorting out the herbs into different jars. He had often seen Aramis riding out into the woods to collect them, though he had never paid much attention to what they did. Aramis had tried to show him, but he always shrugged it off good-naturedly, telling Aramis that he would never need to know since he was the medic.

He now felt a stab of guilt blossom in his chest. He truly was ignorant when it came to Aramis' medicine and now his brother was the one who was sick. Sighing, Porthos silently promised to listen to every word the marksman said in the future. Especially if he would be needing it.

"Ginger," Lemay grabbed one jar and pull out the root, "This common root can be used for so many ailments. From the common cold to arthritis."

Porthos raised his eyebrows, "Didn't know that. Aramis uses it for upset stomach, sometimes when we have colds too."

"This is a great treatment for fever," The doctor's eyes wandered over to another jar, "Where did he get this?"

"What is it?" Porthos frowned.

"Elderberry," Lemay looked at the man, "Do you know that this is used to treat sinus? Many of my patients could do with a healthy dose of this."

Porthos smiled, "I think once Aramis is better, you might have to sign yourself up as his apprentice."

Lemay smiled back, "I believe you're right."

"He's always been the one who takes care of us when we're sick or hurt," The Musketeer looked at the jar in his hands, "We don't always do such a good job at helping him though."

Lemay glanced at the man with a sympathetic gaze.

"On the contrary Porthos, I believe you and your friend are the only ones who can help Aramis."

Porthos must've had a confused look on his face because the doctor went on.

"As a medic, I find myself always working to help others. I often don't have time to give myself proper rest. Your brother is not only a man of medicine, but he is also a Musketeer. I'm positive that if not for you two, he would be worn out. You both are the source he needs to get well."

Porthos could not think of the response to the compliment, so he settled for nodding humbly.

"I couldn't agree more." Treville's voice was heard.

Porthos turned and saw their Captain leaning against the doorframe with a content smile on his face.

"How's Aramis?" He asked.

"He's developed fever, but I see no signs of infection. Porthos was just allowing me to snoop through Aramis' herbs to see if we can't make some herbal tea to help bring it down."

Treville turned his gaze to Porthos, "Will that really work?"

"See what I mean?" Lemay smirked, "I can assure you, herbal remedies have always proven to be a successful treatment. The sooner we get that fever under control, the better."

The older man nodded, "You're the doctor."

"Yes and I believe it's time to see the patient."

All three men made it back to the other room. Porthos wasn't the least bit surprised to see Athos next to Aramis rubbing his arm and whispering something to him.

"He woke up,," Was all the Lieutenant said and stepped aside to make room for Lemay.

Porthos watched as the doctor came by Aramis' side.

"It's good to see you awake, Aramis," Lemay smiled, "Your friends have been worried about you. How are you feeling?"

Aramis blinked back drowsily. He seemed to be having a difficult time focusing,

"Tired." He whispered.

"Yes, we'll let you go back to sleep as soon as I check the stitching," And Lemay lifted the sheet to observe Aramis' bare torso.

The stitches were neat but looked a bit red around the edges. Lemay laid the back of his hand over the wound and was concerned at the heat he felt radiating from it. He eased back when he heard a groan from the man.

"Are you in pain?" He asked.

"Feels like...stomach's on fire." Came the raspy reply.

He then grabbed the man's wrist and wasn't surprised at the quick pulse he felt through the skin.

"I'll make you something for the pain," Lemay promised before getting up and heading over to the fire to start boiling the water.

Athos walked over to him, "Is it worse?"

The doctor looked over at his patient to make sure that he couldn't overhear what was being said, He then turned back to Athos.

"There is a slight infection beginning," He admitted. He sighed as Athos looked up at the ceiling, clearly trying to keep himself together, "Now it's not severe. The wound looks to have telltale signs of infection starting. So if we get this tea into quickly, he still has a chance of beating it."

"I thought you said you knew what you were doing?" Icy blues eyes stared back him filled with anger.

"Infection is always a possibility," The doctor defended, "I'm no more capable of stopping it than catching the wind."

Athos clenched his jaw, "We knew the risks when he allowed you to perform the surgery. If you know something, now is not the time to hold back."

Lemay looked once again behind to make sure Aramis was not hearing anything.

"What aren't you telling us?" Athos ordered. The anger was evident in his voice, though it was tightly concealed. Yet, that didn't mean he couldn't let it erupt any moment.

"He's lost a considerable amount of blood. While it's not enough to lead to shock, if we don't get this fever under control the infection will grow stronger. Even though it's been such a short time, the fever is growing and his chances are become slimmer by the hour."

"So what do you do?" Porthos asked.

"I'm going to try the tea first," The doctor explained, "And if that does not work we will have to try and come up with another treatment."

Athos nodded. He slipped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He then began to stoke up the fire hoping the water would boil soon.

Porthos went back to their brother and once again began bathing his face, neck, and chest, in hopes that the fever would dimish soon.

Aramis winced when the cold made contact with his skin and tried to push away from the burning touch.

"Hey Aramis," Porthos whispered, "Just stay still brother, we gotta get this fever down."

Aramis, however, was fighting his own battle and paid little attention to Porthos' words. The bigger man wasn't even sure if the Spaniard knew where he was.

"Ath..." Aramis moaned out, "Please, whe-where are you?"

Athos dropped what he was doing by the fire and came by Aramis' side.

"I'm here, Aramis, I'm here." He held the man's shoulder's trying in vain to stop him from moving.

"Come on Mis, you don't wanna pull those stitches." Porthos pushed his hair out of his face.

 _Aramis groaned and rolled away from the hands. Everything was so hot. He couldn't breathe. He tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like something heavy was on his chest. His stomach was burning with white hot pain._

 _He heard whispers around him. He didn't know where he was, but he knew he had to get out. He had to get home_

"Aramis," Athos' firm voice was heard, "You need to calm down, you're going to pull your stitches."

That sounded more like the authoritative command that his brother often used when speaking.

"Athos?" Aramis called, "Please, I'm sorry...I didn't mean it. I didn't."

Athos looked over to Porthos who kept his gaze on their brother. Now was not the time to let guilt bury him. Aramis needed them both now. Need them to remain strong and steady.

"Look at me," Athos turned his jaw so that their eyes met, "You have nothing to be sorry for. Everything's going to be alright. You're going to get well."

But Aramis' eyes were glassy and unfocused. He reached out and touched Athos cheek in a mix of sadness and confusion.

"Marsac?" He whispered.

"Bloody hell," Porthos growled, "He think's he's in Savoy."

Athos nodded. Though he was concerned by the turn of events, he was not surprised that Savoy had been brought up. Whenever Aramis was injured, sick, and unaware his mind went back to that damned massacre. His mind would often summon up cruel visions and torture him. Athos hated the fact that those demons were always lurking about, waiting to hurt the poor man.

"Please don't leave me," He begged, "I won't slow you down, please?"

Porthos, who was obviously upset by the marksman's words, shook his head in sorrow. He knew where Aramis was talking about. Because there was only one forest that tortured them all. The mission of Savoy had been cursed from the start and while Aramis had healed a great deal from the traumatic event, it still haunted him.

"No one's leaving brother," He laid a hand on his chest feeling concerned at the heartbeat that was pumping rapidly. Porthos couldn't tell if it was from the fever or the fear which Aramis felt, "We're here with you. We've gotcha."

"Porthos," Aramis had his eyes closed but was still writhing in the bed, "Thos' get it off me. Please help me!"

Athos closed his eyes. Aramis was remembering the wolf that had attacked him. It was a horrible thing to witness. When Porthos and Athos had made their way through the camp, they had found Aramis propped up against a tree, with a dead wolf near his feet. The animal had obviously come through looking for food, and Aramis had had no other choice but to attack it.

"Please, Athos!" He screamed, "Get it off!"

"Aramis, it's alright," Athos leaned forward, "Calm down, we're here."

Aramis opened his eyes again. He stared at Athos and then looked around the room trying to take in his surroundings. Athos gave him a moment to get his bearings and then grabbed his hand.

"Athos?" He asked clearly confused.

"I'm here, brother," Athos smiled warmly, "You're safe here. Porthos is here too."

Aramis blinked and looked over to where Porthos stood on his other side.

"Porthos," He breathed as if it was his lifeline.

"Shhh," Porthos leaned his head against Aramis', "We're here brother. Right here. Just rest now. You've got a fever and you need to rest so you can get better."

Aramis looked up at the ceiling.

"Where am I?"

"In my room, at the Garrison," Athos answered running a hand through the unruly curly hair.

"Hurts..."

"I know, just rest."

For a few moments, Aramis seemed to be struggling to sleep. His would close his eyes and then open them again.

"Sleep brother, you need it," Athos instructed, "Porthos and I will be here."

"Tell the doctor..." He swallowed, "Yarrow...works." He then fell back to sleep to weak to fight anymore.

Both men stared in fascination amazed that Aramis had remembered that in his current state.

"Always the medic," Porthos mused.

Lemay nodded, "I'll need another jar."

Athos on the other hand just stayed silent. He kept holding Aramis' hand but said nothing.

"Don't you go blaming yourself again," Porthos said, "We've already been through this."

"I know," He spoke softly gaze fixed on Aramis, "But, if he dies," He looked back to Porthos, "I'll never forgive myself."

"Don't go thinking like that!" The dark skinned man snapped, "He's not gonna die, I won't allow it!"

Athos huffed, "What are planning to do. Magically give him enough blood so that he can get stronger and fight the infection?"

"I'll do whatever the hell is necessary!" Porthos growled, "Even if that includes making sure you don't give up!"

"I'm not giving up!" Athos stood up feeling rage brewing inside, "I want you to see the truth!"

"What? That you're responsible for every bloody thing because you're the leader?" The man scoffed, "Keep trying because I don't believe that."

"I am responsible for the lives of brothers!" Athos shouted, "If I could save him, don't you think would?"

"Of course I do," Porthos waved a hand toward the bed, "But you can't fix this, Ath."

Athos stood silently trying to calm his racing heart. He felt like breaking down and crying, but he was hiding in behind his anger and frustration.

His brother didn't deserve such agony. Athos felt like it should be him in the bed, dying from infection. He knew he couldn't save Aramis, but he selfishly wanted to cry out, "Why not?" to the Heavens.

And then a thought hit him.

"Why not?" He asked out loud.

"What?" Porthos frowned at him.

"Why can't I save him?" He looked into the brown eyes with a spark of hope.

"Let me think, because you're not God," Came the annoyed reply.

"Porthos listen," Athos came over by his brother, "Lemay said Aramis is losing the fight with the infection because his blood loss has made him weak."

"So?" Porthos frowned.

"So why don't we just give him blood?" Athos dared to hope that this could be the answer.

"Can he do that?" Porthos asked obviously realizing what his brother was saying.

Both men looked at each and over to their sick brother. As if thinking with one mind, they both rushed out of the room to find Dr. Lemay.

 **I know! I'm so terrible to leave you all with this cliffhanger! ;) Well, you wanted some Athos whump right? Feel free to write your ideas of what might happen in the reviews. I always read them! I know some of you may be thinking, wait this is the 17th century, but I have a plan. I researched a bit too. More to come soon!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Sorry, this took so long to update. Between volunteering and homework, this last week was busy. But here is the new chapter. As always share your reviews with me. And check the end for notes. :)**

"Why not just give it a shot?" Athos demanded as he and Porthos both stood before the reluctant doctor.

"Because I don't believe you understand the gravity of what you are suggesting?" Lemay replied keeping his attention on the fire that was warming the herbs.

"I'm suggesting a treatment that will save our brother's life," The Lieutenant came to stand directly in front of Lemay, "It gives us a chance to try something."

"Yes, something that could be disastrous."

"Something that could save him," Was the annoyed response, "Better that than sitting around here just watching him..." Lemay glanced at the man who looked away and was taking a deep breath as if trying to compose himself.

"I understand your concern," He offered gently, "But we must wait. Try different treatments before risking something so dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Porthos questioned.

"All I'm suggesting is to give Aramis the blood that he needs," Athos kept speaking ignoring the doctor's words, "You yourself said that he lost too much during the operation. What is the harm in simply replacing it?"

"I am a man of science, sir," Lemay argued. He understood the man's concern, but he was growing tired of the musketeer's inability to see reason, "I'm not God and I can't guarantee success in every treatment. As a physician, I must balance the knowledge of risks versus those of success."

"All we want to know is, is it possible?" Porthos intervened senses Athos' anger brewing, "Will it work?"

The doctor rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Blood transfusions are a difficult and often unpredictable source of treatment. While some individuals have been cured by it, many have died. I can't say that I have enough knowledge to perform such a dangerous procedure. The risks are always higher it seems. There's the threat of infection, blood loss from the healthy donor, bacteria infecting the body, and of course, it actually could prove to be a waste of time."

"But is there a chance that it could work," Athos leaned in and whispered. The doctor noted the desperation that reflected back in the blue eyes, "Have you ever seen a patient survive?"

After a long pause, the doctor nodded.

"Yes...but only once. I've done a few transfusions by collecting the blood from an animal to human. The patient survived. I have done a human to human transfusion but..."

Both men knew that the silence would not bring good news.

"Did they die?" Porthos asked.

Lemay nodded guilty, "We're still not sure why? The one giving the blood was healthy and strong. We made sure to only take out what was necessary but...you must understand, this procedure needs more experiments. There's still so much that we don't know. So many risks and things that could go wrong."

"Would Aramis get better if he received enough blood?" Athos asked keeping his gaze fixed on the fire that burned.

"I don't know," Lemay was beginning to feel useless. He knew that the unanswered questions were frustrating for both men, but he could not provide information that he did not know, "There's a possibility it could benefit him, or it could change nothing."

"How much can I give him?" Was the next somber question.

"Athos." Porthos sighed shaking his head.

Athos just remained motionless as if he heard nothing.

Lemay blinked up in shock at the man before him.

"Surely you don't mean-"

"I do."

"But the risk that you would be putting yourself through-"

"Means nothing as long as he survives," Athos raised his gaze back to Lemay, "I'll ask again. How much can I give him?"

"I...I don't know," He shook his head, "I'll have to examine him again. And I'll need to examine you to make sure you're healthy enough to undergo this procedure."

"I assure you, doctor, the only thing that is infecting my veins is a great sum of wine." Porthos shook his head at the sarcastic comment.

"I can't guarantee that this will save your friend," Athos nodded in understanding, "Or that you will recover."

"What do you mean?" Porthos asked feeling fear hit his stomach.

"Many people have died trying to give a loved one blood," Lemay looked at both sympathetically, "I won't lie to you, your chances of surviving this are slim, Athos."

"It's been hours and the tea is not helping," Athos closed his eyes trying to keep his frustration in check.

"But there are other alternatives to try."

"Such as?"

"Leeches are a highly reputable treatment. I've used them on many of my patients and have always found-"

The doctor was cut off by two large hands grabbing his coat and shaking him painfully until he was pushed back against the wall. When he opened his eyes he was met by Porthos burning glare of rage.

"Don't you touch him with those," He's threatening whisper caused Lemay to shudder, "You understand? That'll kill him for sure."

The doctor could only nod back in response dumbly. Porthos then released him but kept his gaze firm and threatening.

"I understand," Lemay fixed his shirt raising his hands as if to demonstrate to the big man that he meant no harm, "But it might prove to be more successful than..."

"No." Porthos shook his head adamantly.

Lemay sighed, "Very well. I'll need to give you a full body examination, Athos. If I notice anything abnormal, it might get in the way of the transfusion."

"I understand." He nodded in agreement.

"I'll get my bag," And with a quick stride, the doctor headed outside, leaving both men alone for a moment.

"Athos," The Lieutenant cringed at the chastising tone in Porthos' voice.

"Don't," He replied harshly, "Don't tell me not to do this. You know it's something that has to be... just don't."

Porthos stepped forward so he could meet his brother's gaze.

"I don't think Aramis would want you to do this." He advised.

"Of course he wouldn't," Athos laughed shaking his head, "The man's a stubborn, risk-taking, fool. And right now he's not able to tell us his opinion, so I'm going to do what I can to save him."

"But, we're not even sure if it'll work," Porthos argued, "I can't let you take that risk. I'll do it."

"What?" Athos frowned, "No."

"Yes, Athos. This ain't up for a debate," Porthos stood firm, "I'm bigger and stronger than both of you. Probably got more blood to spare too."

Athos stared at him dumbfounded. He then turned his back to Porthos to stalk back over to the fireplace.

"You're being ridiculous!" He growled.

"Oh?" Porthos' response was detached, "Why's that?"

"Because he's going to need you!"

"And he won't need you? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Dammit Porthos," Athos yelled, "Don't play ignorant with me! Like you don't know what I did to him! The last person he needs near him is me!"

Porthos shook his head staring at the floor. He was honestly running out of ways to make Athos understand the truth. That he was innocent and deserved no ounce of hatred from them.

"You're wrong," He stated simply, hoping that it just might drive through his stubborn head if he said it with meaning, "You're completely wrong, Athos. He needs you in there just as much as he needs me. And deep inside, I think you know it. So you can't take this risk. For one more reason. I need you."

Athos blinked at the bigger man in question. Surely that was not true. He had brought Porthos only misery and disappointment. He had pushed him away in anger when this gentle man only continued to show him kindness and love.

And suddenly, it was like another wall was breaking right before his eyes. The truth was spilling forth before he could even think long enough to stop it.

"I...I need to make it up to him." The hushed whisper made Porthos' throat tighten.

"You feel like you owe him this?" He asked keeping his voice as quiet as Athos'.

"Yes."

Rubbing a hand over his beard, Porthos sighed thoughtfully. He then stepped in and pulled the man in for a warm embrace. He did not try to say a thing. He just simply held him, letting him know that he understood and was here.

Athos stiffened at first. He had been expecting Porthos to shout at him, to reject his confession with a mocking eye-roll. But none of that had happened. Instead, he was being wrapped in a tight, warm embrace. It felt strangely comfortable and soon Athos was able to let go of all his reasons that he had been storing up in his head to defend his point. He was able to just breath out and relax, knowing the man would not leave.

"This is why we love you," Came the gentle voice as warm fingers ran through his hair, "Because you never think about yourself. Always us."

Athos frowned at the compliment. He had always seen himself as a selfish man who cared nothing for others. He had proven it by his drinking and wallowing in self-pity.

Now Porthos was claiming to see attributes that Athos had never seen in himself before. What both his brothers saw was always a mystery to him. But, he was grateful for the trust nonetheless.

He removed himself from Porthos' arms reluctantly. While he had enjoyed the close contact, he didn't want any prying eyes to witness his weakness. After all, he would make a scene.

"Don't worry," Porthos laughed deeply, "I'll make sure to keep it between us."

Once more, the man was able to accurately read his mind before he could say a thing. Athos dipped his head in acknowledgment.

With the sound of footsteps, the doctor had made his way back into the room, holding his bag.

"Found my tools," He smiled triumphantly, "I'm going to need to examine Athos in private."

Porthos looked at Athos as if seeking consent. Athos nodded silently. He then left the room with a quick, "I'll be back in a bit," before closing the door behind him.

Athos looked at Lemay expectantly.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" The man asked seeming unsure.

"Yes," Athos answered firmly, "While I appreciate your concern, I am sure of my choice and refuse to change it. So please refrain from telling me the error of my ways."

Lemay shook his head at the man's neutral stance, strong tone and rigid posture. It was clear that he was firm in his choice.

"Very well," He nodded.

"But, there's is one thing," Athos spoke up looking Lemay straight in the face.

"Yes?" Lemay frowned.

"Will you do me a favor?"

"If I can."

"Anything information that you discover in terms of my health wither good or bad..." Athos crossed his arms, "You will not breathe a single word of this to Porthos. Understand?"

Lemay felt his blood run cold at the statement. He could only nod dumbly in agreement. He knew it might not have been the right thing to do, but he would not argue with the man. Not when his tone was one refuting any argument.

He just prayed he was doing the right thing.

 **Yeah, so things aren't looking so good for Athos. Here some fun history. The first blood transfusion took place in Britain in the 17rh century and William Harvey described blood properties in 1628. The first transfusions were attempted around this time, some were successful and others were not. Around this time, doctors didn't know about blood types which lead to many disasters. Hemolytic transfusions are a reaction that occur when the wrong blood type is given.  
So there's your science and hisotry for the evening. Hope that was helpful! Please let me know your thoughts. **


	11. Chapter 11

"Well Athos, you seem to be in fine shape to me," Lemay spoke as he washed his hands in the basin.

"Courtesy of being a Musketeer," Athos kept his tone even as he buttoned up his white shirt.

"You're healthy and strong," Lemay nodded, "I would estimate that you're a fine candidate for the blood transfusion."

"Mmm, about that," Athos turned to look out the window at the Garrison, "If other patients are as strong and healthy as I am, why do they fall sick?"

Lemay ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, "I'm afraid I don't know. In fact, there's too much we don't know about blood transfusions, Athos. Which is why I'm so reluctant to attempt the procedure."

Athos frowned, "What other suggestions do you have in mind, hmm? Doctor, if you know anything or have any other alternatives, please do share those now?"

The doctor could only stare back at him in silence.

"Then please don't criticize me for taking it upon myself to save my brother's life." He sat down wearily in the chair rubbing a hand over his face.

"On the contrary," Lemay leaned against the wall, "I'm not criticizing your efforts, merely warning you of the risks that may be brought about by them. Since we physicians don't have a large amount of knowledge in this procedure, I'd be guessing how to treat any illness that you may develop."

"I'm not entirely interested in how you treat me," Athos not longer worked to hide the annoyance in his voice, "Only in what you do to help, Aramis."

"There's the second thing," Athos rolled his eyes feeling the need to punch Lemay rather than sit here and listen to him, "I also have no guarantee that your blood will help him. Your efforts might prove to be useless and then what will you have accomplished?"

"The knowledge that I did something to help instead of just sitting here watching your treatments ending in failure." The cruel words were out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying.

Lemay simply smiled and nodded lightly, "Yes, indeed. An action is better than a theory."

"Forgive me," Athos sighed, "I spoke out of emotion and not intelligence. I realize that you are doing all you can for him and for that I am grateful."

Lemay studied him closely for a moment before smiling, "Apologies are unnecessary. You are concerned for your brother's life. I do not hold that against you. In fact, I would undoubtedly find myself feeling similar if I was in your situation."

Athos nodded his head in acknowledgment. He was grateful that Lemay seemed to understand his position. Even though the entire situation had not been brought up. Athos knew that another reason behind his certainty in this treatment was due to his guilt. He had meant what he had said to Porthos earlier on. He felt as if he owed Aramis this, for being responsible for his damages in the first place. Not only was this his chance to pay him back, but also it was his penance. His burden to hold and carry.

His thoughts were disrupted by Porthos entering the room in a hurry.

"What's wrong?" Athos felt his stomach clench in fear of what Porthos would say.

Porthos merely shook his head, indicating to Athos that it was not an emergency.

"How is he?" Lemay asked.

"Not good," Porthos sighed, "He's fever hasn't gone down and he can't keep down the tea. I'm worried that he might get dehydrated."

Lemay grabbed his bag, "Let's take a look, shall we?"

All three men headed back to the room where Treville was sitting with Aramis. He was working on trying to cool him down with a damp cloth, but Aramis seemed to still be fighting the fever within.

"He's somewhere else in his head," Treville explained as he moved to make room for Lemay, "We tried to calm him down but..." He shook his head watching the young man toss and turn in pain, "Sometimes, his own demons are stronger."

All three men remained silent as the doctor checked his patient. It took a while and many times Athos had to bite his lip to keep from saying anything.

Finally, Lemay turned back to them, eyes full of sympathy that Athos hated.

"His fever is getting worse," He spoke, "It's his body's way of fighting off the infection, but it will harm him if we don't find a way to bring it down. He is already growing dehydrated. He can't tolerate anything more but a few small sips. If it continues in this way, I'll have no choice but to use the leeches."

"He's already losing so much water and you want to use those things on him!" Porthos bellowed, "That'll kill him for sure!"

"There's no other alternative. The infection must be brought down." Lemay turned to Treville, "If the infection gets worse he will be beyond my help."

Both Porthos and Athos turned to the captain waiting to see what his response would be. Treville looked back at them and Aramis.

"And you're sure that there is nothing else you can do?" He frowned.

Lemay shook his head.

Treville sighed closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. He hated every moment of being in such a position, but there was nothing else to do.

"God knows he's suffered through so many worse incidents than this," He whispered more to himself than anyone else.

"And he'll get through this, Captain," Porthos argued in a low voice.

"He will," Treville nodded, "With the proper treatment," He turned to Lemay, "Do what you must to save him."

"No!" Athos yelled.

"Captain!" Porthos growled, "So help me if he takes one step toward Aramis I'll..."

"What other choice do we have!" Treville yelled back.

"I can still give him blood." Athos looked between the Captain and Lemay, "Go on, tell him."

"Tell me what?" Treville turned back to Lemay, "What's all this about giving blood?"

"After we discovered that Aramis had lost a considerable amount of blood, both your men proposed a blood transfusion, in which we take blood from a healthy donor and transport it into Aramis' system."

Treville's eyes lit up in surprise, "Can something like that be done?"

"It can, but unfortunately there are more risks and deaths involved than actual cures. Many donors have died trying to give blood and there's no guarantee that Aramis will even benefit from it."

"But a least we have a chance," Athos replied, "Lemay examined me and found that I was healthy enough to be considered a donor-"

"But, the risk is much greater than the possible outcome," Lemay cut in, "Which is why I strongly suggested to your men, particularly Athos, that we try some alternatives."

"And those alternatives are leeches?" Porthos glared.

"I assure you, sir," Lemay replied, "Leeches have been a common remedy for thousands of patients. They are in fact, an effective cure."

"Rubbish," The bigger man growled, "He's already losing so much water. He'll die if you use those."

"Forgive me if I seem rude, sir," Lemay titled his head to one side, "But what, if I may ask actual medical knowledge do you have to prove your theory?"

Porthos shook his head in anger. Athos laid a hand on his arm to calm him and also to remind him not to do anything reckless.

"Captain," The doctor turned to the older man, "May I have a word with you..." He looked back at both Musketeers, "Privately."

Athos clenched his fist as he watched Treville and Lemay head to the doorway, voices lowered in hushed whispers.

"I break his bloody neck," Porthos whispered to Athos, "Treville's too if he lets him go on with this."

Athos turned his attention back to Aramis, who had remained unmoving and still in some sort of sleep throughout the whole ordeal.

He took the limp hand in his own and ran his other hand through the thick curls. He didn't realize Porthos was next to him until he heard his voice.

"Mis would never let him use those leeches on us."

Athos couldn't help the fond smirk that came, "He knows more than those royal physicians do anyway."

"Ath, we can't let him do it," Athos swallowed the lump in his throat at the raw fear in Porthos' voice, "I don't care what he or the Captain says. I won't let them hurt him."

"No, we won't," It was more of a vow than a statement, "If I can give him blood, we can see if he stands a chance."

"Yeah but you know the risks with that." Porthos' voice changed from fear to irritation in one moment, "I can't let you do that."

"Fine," Athos turned back to face him, "We'll just sit here and watch this fool bleed our brother to death! Is that what you want?"

Porthos looked torn as he looked between Athos and Aramis. Athos hated seeing him in such turmoil. Hated the fact that he was the reason behind it. He really wasn't worth all this sacrifice.

"Fine," He whispered, "But if anything happens to you after that, I'll throttle you."

Athos felt a smile tug at his lips, "I don't doubt it."

"So how are we gonna convince bug boy there to do the transfusion?" Porthos nudged his head toward the doorway where Lemay and Treville were still engaged in a conversation.

"As we convince many others," Athos smiled waving his gun, "Brute force."

Porthos looked over at the men again and back at Athos. A mischevious smile broke out.

"You're intelligence never ceases to amaze me, mon ami." He grinned.

"Oh please Porthos," Athos smirked, "It's really quite simple. I know the intelligent part and Aramis showed me the reckless part."

Athos then strode over to where Treville and Lemay were speaking.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm afraid I must interrupt."

"Yes, Athos," Treville replied, "What is it?"

"I simply wanted to apologize for my arrogant behavior a minute ago. Such behavior is unbecoming of a Musketeer. I'd like to offer Dr. Lemay my deepest and most humble apology."

Lemay seemed all to fascinated with Athos to notice Porthos lurking behind the door. Treville was standing just behind Lemay, so his line of vision was obstructed as well.

"I accept your apology, Athos." Lemay bowed lightly, "I realize that we have a difference of opinion, but we must put that aside for Aramis's sake."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Athos nodded, "The care that Porthos and I have for Aramis is so strong that it sometimes blears any matter of sense we may have. That is why I am apologizing for my previous behavior and my future irrational actions."

"I'm afraid I don't understand?" Lemay frowned, "Irrational actions?"

"Yes," Athos cocked his pistol and pointed it at Lemay's head, "Like this one."

"Athos!" Treville yelled.

Before anyone else could speak, Athos yanked the doctor inside and Porthos slammed the door shut, bolted it and pushed the dresser in front of it. All the while, Treville was pounded on the door in fury.

"Have you both taking leave of senses!" Lemay yelled.

"Oh it's alright, really," Porthos laid his arm over Lemay's shoulders, "I've seen him do this many times."

"Treville," Athos called through the wood door, "I want your word that you will stay out of this."

"Athos, you know I can't do that," Treville's voice was sympathetic but firm, "Now release Lemay or so help me, I'll have you court-martialed."

"That is unfortunate, Captain," Athos replied, "Because it seems that Porthos and I will be handed in our resignation and our pauldrons once we get Lemay to save Aramis."

"Athos!" Treville yelled but Athos ignored him.

"We better make this fast, because I don't know how long Aramis is gonna last without some blood," Porthos instructed holding onto Lemay's coat tightly.

"Then I will get straight to the point, doctor," Athos walked up to Lemay, "You will perform the blood transfusion on me to the best of your ability and then you will transfer it to Aramis. Then you will leave this Garrison and never say a word about what took place here. If we find out that you have done otherwise," He leaned close, "You might find leeches on your body next, understand?"

Lemay simple nodded in terror.

"Good," Athos rolled up his sleeve, "Now, shall we begin?"

 **Sorry for the long wait! Hope that was worth it. Please leave reviews!**


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